


Adventures In Solitude

by jdphobe



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: (both parental and spousal abuse. the latter is NOT between our main characters/main ship), F/M, Gen, M/M, and in depth discussion of mourning grief and survivors guilt, content warnings for child neglect, discussion of and minor descriptions of both abuse and its effects years down the line, don't be driven away by the ship tags and ridiculous polyamorous relationship, its a fic about nagisa's adult life and a reincarnated korosensei, nagisa gets pretty humiliated a lot, nsfw jokes, reincarnated!korosensei, school shenanigans, that said his spouses still play a role and i hope i can sell you on this nonsense by the end here, that said there's nothing darker in it than there is in canon., this is not a ship fic, uhhhh this is like slice of life meets mild angst meets finding peace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 16:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 213,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18102524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphobe/pseuds/jdphobe
Summary: "Imagine what you'd be now if you hadn't been born where you were. You'd still be smart, slightly perverted, a little bit goofy, not to mention remarkably stubborn... But your smile would be open and honest, not just a means to an end."Fifteen years after Assclass, Nagisa, now 30, has done a pretty bang-up-job of becoming a teacher. Happily married to Karma, Kayano, and Gakushuu, he’s ready to move onto his eighth year of teaching, now at the renovated E-Class building. Life is good.But will everything he believes be tossed upon its head when he meets a strange student he quickly becomes convinced is the reincarnation of Korosensei? And what other strange secrets hide behind this seemingly average class of first years?





	1. Shiota-sensei Time

The night before he meets him, things are the same as every year.   
  
He’s hunched over the living room table, a blanket gingerly tossed over his lap. Student files and rough drafts of potential lessons scattered across the table and floor; he’s made a mess of his own home. But Nagisa Shiota is no underachiever, and his students only deserve the best.   
  
The clock ticks just past 1AM and his vision begins to blur. But he shakes his head and reasserts his attention. He at least wants to get a start on next week’s science lesson befor-   
  
“Okay. That’s enough. It’s bedtime, Teach.”   
  
Nagisa sighs as Karma saunters up behind him. “I just need to prepare one more thing,” he insists, reaching for a worksheet. Karma bats his hand away.   
  
“Nu-uh!” he chides. “Someone needs his beauty sleep to make a good first impression on his students tomorrow.”   
  
“...I just want it to be perfect,” Nagisa admits   
  
“And it will be. It has every year.”   
  
“...Yeah. I know. I just worry.”   
  
“Well, knock that off!” Karma quips. He leans down, reassuringly wraps his arms around Nagisa and proceeds to heave him over his shoulder.   
  
Nagisa sputters and kicks. “Hey!”    
  
“Sorry. It’s time to haul your ass off to bed.”   
  
Nagisa sighs and gives up the struggle. Ah - The woes of just barely reaching 5’3 and weighing 110-something pounds soaking wet. “...At least let me clean up. I promised Kayano I would.”   
  
“And she and I both knew you were lying through your teeth. Don’t sweat it. We can deal with it in the morning.” He makes his way across the room and down the hall, then makes a turn towards the stairs.    
  
“Okay. But you can be the one to deal with her rage.”   
  
“I’m not scared of her wrath. What’s the worst she can do? Gnaw my ankles?”   
  
“This exactly is why we’ve all decided to oppress you for being tall.”   
  
“Whatever you say, Nagisa.”    
  
Nagisa rolls his eyes. “Listen. I know I can’t fight you. I’ll go to sleep. But can you at least put me down? I have my own two feet, believe it or not.”   
  
“Absolutely not.” He snickers and enters the bedroom. Gakushuu’s faintly snoring. “I love manhandling you.”    
  
“Please don’t word it like that.”   
  
“Just try and stop me,” he challenges, tossing Nagisa into bed. Well - beds. They’ve actually haphazardly shoved two together. You’d think a relationship built on the heels of a famed bureaucrat, a loaded CEO, an esteemed movie star, and a significantly less impressive teacher trying his best could have come up with a more innovative solution- But the extent their dumbassery goes to astonishes him more and more every day.   
  
Karma crawls into bed next to him and pulls the cover up over the both of them. “Okay, okay. No more manhandling.” He says, before leaning in close. “...For now,” he whispers.   
  
Nagisa elbows him. “The hell happened to forcing me to get some sleep?”   
  
“Can’t a man say goodnight?”    
  
“Only if he’ll stop making barely-clouded references to our sex life.”   
  
Karma chuckles, but gives it up as he snakes his arms around Nagisa’s back. “Alright, alright. Night, Nagisa. Try not to stress over tomorrow too much, okay?”   
  
“...I’ll try,” Nagisa agrees, knowing that’s near-impossible. He leans into Karma’s hug and wraps his own arms around Kayano. It’s not their preferred cuddle position, with Gakushuu left ‘unsnuggled’ and leaning halfway off the bed, but there’s only so much you can do when _ one  _ of your partners refuses to go to bed at a decent time.   
  
Oh. Wait. That’s him.   
  
“It’s just… I… I overthink it, y’know?”   
  
_ “Here we go.”  _ _  
_   
“What if the kids don’t like me?”   
  
“Considering they’re going to a school run singlehandedly by you, I think they’re either going to have to like you or suck it up.”   
  
Nagisa snorts. “Oh. So they’re just going to  _ have _ to deal with me, huh?” he retorts.   
  
“Yep. That’s just what the rest of us do.” Karma pulls Nagisa closer and buries his face in his neck. “Seriously. You have nothing to worry about. You’ve been a hit every year, haven’t you?”   
  
“I wouldn’t say  _ a hit _ -”   
  
“Half the kids from Paradise  _ still _ message you.”   
  
“W-Well! I have to check up on them, after all--” Nagisa sputters.   
  
Karma chuckles. “And that’s why they all love you. You really do care. So give it a rest. You’ve spent the past three years getting the kinks worked out of Constellate, and it still went swimmingly. This should be better than ever.”   
  
“...Yeah, I guess so,” Nagisa agrees. “I just… Really want to be there for them.”   
  
“And you will. You always have.” Karma ruffles his hair. “Just trust your gut, okay? Everything will be fine. Now get some rest. Otherwise you’re  _ actually _ going to give all those kids a reason to make fun of you in the morning.”   
  
“Okay-- Okay--” Nagisa caves. “...Night, Karma.”    
  
“Night, Nagisa.” Karma kisses the back of his neck, before finally rolling over.   
  
...Yeah. Everything will be just fine. He’s had the best role model on the planet, after all. Things will be tough, they always are, taking in the kids he feels need the most help. But they’ll also pay off. They have every year before.   
  
_ That said  _ \- He’s  _ really _ wondering if it’s time to expand the building. And wondering how the kids will take to his… Unique methods. Every reaction is different. Oh! And he still needs to decide what to do with that math packet.   
  
“Wait. One m-”   
  
“Nope.  _ Nope. _ Shut it. Go to sleep. It’s one in the morning and if you overthink anything  _ one  _ more time at this hour, I will start breaking things.”   
  
Nagisa shuts up. Fair enough, considering he pulls this just about every other night. “Night, Karma.”   
  
“Goodnight, _ again. _ ”    
  
In due time Karma dozes off.    
  
Nagisa turns over once, then again. Until the night before his first year of teaching he’d never thought it was possible to be so excited and nervous all at once. But every time, without fail, he finds himself wandering back to that feeling. It’s almost funny, considering how little he’d looked forward to his own Junior High Years.   
  
It’s not like he could have known what was to come.   
  
...But… Looking back on it, it had been a profound, earth-shattering experience for him. The friends he made, the lessons he learned, and the impact they carried. A… A lot of that was thanks to the efforts of the teachers. They’d helped him come to terms with who he was, find his place in the world, and helped carve his future. Holding that very own power in his hands… It makes him giddy and terrified all at once.   
  
Because he can never underestimate the impact he can have on those kids. He can be there for them when no-one else is. And as scary of a responsibility as that is, he also thinks it’s entirely why he became a teacher.    
  
Because if he’d needed it so desperately back then, so would hundreds of other kids. He’s so, so scared of screwing this up, but the reward for succeeding is worth so much more than that fear could ever deter him.   
  
He just has to believe it’ll be fine. Trust Karma and trust his gut.    
  
Well - On  _ second thought _ \- No human being should even remotely trust Karma Akabane. But here he is married to the arrogant bastard, so he’s long since crossed that threshold.   
  
And, for once, he does have a point. What’s the worst that could possibly happen?    
  


* * *

  
“One of these days I’m going to break my neck on this stuff.”   
  
“If you manage to slip at all,  _ much less break your neck  _ on a bunch of worksheets, I will pay off your medical bills with my own damn paycheck.”   
  
“You know for a fact you can’t do that.”   
  
“Exactly. Because it’s not going to happen.”   
  
“If he manages to break his neck on a bunch of worksheets I’ll probably start wheezing..”   
  
“...Good morning to you, too.” Gakushuu grumbles.    
  
Nagisa takes a bite of his breakfast and glances to where Karma stands in the doorway. Karma struts over to where Gakushuu sits across the table and slings his arms over the back of his chair.   
  
“Okay. Okay. Enough.” Nagisa says. “I’ll get it.” He stands, toast in mouth, and feeling like an anime schoolboy as he makes his way over to the living room.   
  
He crouches down and starts sweeping up his papers. He throws them into messy piles on the table. Someone sits down beside him and starts straightening out his mess.   
  
“Need a hand?” Kayano asks with a smile.    
  
“Yeah. That would be appreciated. Can you toss any pink papers or anything marked 4/4 into my binder?” he asks, pointing to a thick binder beside him on the floor.   
  
Kayano heaves it up onto the glass table. “Of course.”   
  
“I’m surprised you’re not chewing me out for leaving this mess in the first place.”   
  
“No way. I figured it was Karma’s fault.”   
  
Nagisa nods. “Most things are.”   
  
“Mmmmmyup,” Karma agrees, giving them a thumbs up from the kitchen table.    
  
Nagisa collects the last of his worksheets from the floor. Quickly flipping through and yanking a paper out of the pile, then flipping through one more time for good measure- He puts them down on the table.   
  
“I think that’s everything,” he says, sliding the paper into the binder. Kayano hands him a few more papers. “Mind if I leave everything I won’t need today here?”   
  
“Unless Gakushuu can somehow manage to break his neck with the papers on the table, I don’t have any objections.”    
  
Gakushuu groans. “Oh, will you lay it off, Akari!? Like you’ve never complained about some minute nonsense before.”   
  
“Fair enough, arthritis.”   
  
Nagisa shakes his head and tosses his toast back in his mouth as he returns to the table. Karma’s made himself at home and is no longer clinging to a relieved Gakushuu.    
  
“You nervous about the new batch of students?” Kayano asks as she pulls out the chair next to him.   
  
“Petrified,” Nagisa admits.   
  
“I wouldn’t worry about it. They’re going to have a great time.”   
  
“That’s what I was trying to tell him!” Karma agrees through a mouthful of rice.    
  
“I’m… Excited, too, though,” Nagisa admits, picking at his Yogurt. “I’ve looked over their files a hundred times, but you never really know what sort of people they’re gonna be until you meet them.”   
  
“Hopefully there won’t be another Konishi,” Gakushuu says.   
  
“...Konishi was a good kid!” Nagisa disagrees.   
  
“Once he took a baseball bat to our television.”   
  
“...Okay. So maybe he had a few issues…”   
  
The kids at Paradise had been unruly at best. And oftentimes the kids he took in at Constellate weren’t much ‘better.’ But he tried not to mind. It was those who lashed out the most that most often needed the most help.    
  
And most often took a baseball bat to their television.   
  
“Speaking of atrocities committed against this household, have you hauled Mary off to the school building yet?” Karma asks.    
  
“Yeah. I moved her over yesterday.”   
  
‘Mary’ being a twelve foot, eleven-year-old Albino Burmese Python Nagisa had bought the moment he got out of high school and the only thing he’d ever discovered capable of getting under Karma’s skin. Now she mostly stays in the science room, both for the students to study, and to ease Karma’s nerves.   
  
“I also brought over Korokohai and the rats. It’s a pet-free house until July.” Korokohai, a dumbo octopus accidentally acquired through a friend of a friend of Okuda’s, and the rats being somewhat self-explanatory.    
  
“Thank fuck. I am  _ so _ tired of having her beady eyes stare me down.”   
  
“For the last time, she’s not going to measure you out and eat you in your sleep. Snakes literally don’t do that.”   
  
“And octopi don’t fly!” Karma refutes, throwing his hands in the air.   
  
“You misused literally.” Gakushuu duly notes. “Snakes  _ factually _ don’t do that.”   
  
Nagisa smirks. “You heard the man. She’s not going to eat you.”   
  
“Even if she could, I doubt she _ would _ ,” Gakushuu adds on. “She’d get indigestion.”   
  
Kayano snorts. “Sounds about right.”   
  
Karma rolls his eyes and leans his chair back. “Bold words coming from a man who believes a snake would eat him.”   
  
“I never said that,” Gakushuu says.   
  
“For the last time! The snake’s not eating anyone!” Nagisa insists.   
  
“...Yet.”   
  
Sometimes dealing with his spouses feels like nailing jello to a tree.   
  
Nagisa sighs and rolls his eyes. “I’m getting dressed.” He stands up and pushes his chair.    
  
“Too cowardly to keep discussing the likelihood of your beloved pet eating me whole?”   
  
“You are  _ literally _ the only one debating this, Karma. The rest of us have common sense.” Nagisa remarks. “And, no. I just want to be there early. I have some tidying up to do. Speaking of, don’t you have work to be getting ready for?”   
  
Kayano’s shoot doesn’t start until ten, and most of Gakushuu’s work consists of barking orders over the phone- but Karma, as a ‘backbone of their nation,’ also has to get up at ungodly hours. With an alarm clock and the desperate need for spooning at night on the table, the other two have just found themselves dragged along for the ride.   
  
“Eh. I have a minute. You go ahead.” Karma waves his hand dismissively.    
  
Nagisa nods and makes his way back up towards the bedroom. He grabs his clothes from the drawer and gently lays them on the bed. He then slips into them and swipes a familiar tie from his nightstand.   
  
Karasuma’d pulled a few strings years back to get it for him, long after the commotion had died down. He’d figured it’d serve as a fine memento.   
  
_ “Why me?”  _ Nagisa had asked. His classmates had all loved Korosensei.   
  
_ “You’re the one following in the crazy octopus’s footsteps. I think he’d want it to go to you.” _ _  
_   
That had been halfway through his first year of teaching. Admittedly, he’d shed a few tears.   
  
He runs his thumb over the tie, noting the hole, before turning to the mirror, and tightening it firmly around his neck. He gives himself a smile.   
  
“Wish me luck, Sensei,” He says to no-one in particular, before sliding on his vest and making his way back towards the kitchen.   
  
...He still misses him every day.   
  
It was Korosensei who’d helped him discover his passion. Nagisa would never not be thankful for that. When he’d felt so alone, and dealt with so much, Korosensei had reached out a tentacle. He’d steered him away from following a violent path and always truly believed in him. Nagisa doesn’t know where he’d be without him.   
  
He’s not sure he’s even remotely living up to Korosensei’s legacy, but he hopes wherever he is, he’s proud.   
  
“I think I’m going to head out,” he says, stretching.   
  
“Not before we smother you in goodbye kisses, you ain’t,” Karma insists, waving Nagisa over.   
  
Knowing he’s in for being lugged around like a sack of potatoes over Karma’s shoulder again if he dare ignores him, he makes his way back over to the table.   
  
“Okay, okay--” he relents with a sigh.   
  
Karma gives him a satisfied smile and leans over to kiss his forehead. “Good luck, okay?”   
  
He makes his way around to Kayano. “Make sure to tell us everything when you get home, okay?” she says, pecking his cheek.   
  
Gakushuu gives him a quick kiss on the nose, before curtly straightening his tie. “You’re going to do just fine.”   
  
That’s what Nagisa keeps trying to tell himself.    
  
He quickly returns their kisses, before heading into the living room, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and grabbing his binder. “See you tonight! I’ll make sure to tell you all about how it went.”    
  
“Remember! You can’t possibly screw it up that badly!”   
  
“Say hi to Kiyoshi for me!”   
  
“Have a great day!”   
  
And with that, he’s off. He can’t hold back a grin as he waves over his shoulder. Their relationship may be something akin to nailing jello to a tree, and their routine may be chaotic at best- But he truly does love the three of them. Even if it was a string of crazy coincidences that brought their convoluted polycule together, they make him happy every day. Six years of marriage is nothing to scoff at, after all.   
  
...Yeah. Time flies. It feels like just yesterday that they’d tied the knot. And just a moment before that that they’d even _ met. _ Has it really been fifteen years since that fateful school year? Sometimes it still feels like a dream to Nagisa.   
  
He glances at the moon, still visible in the morning sky. With time it’s mostly returned to its natural shape, albeit smaller. But if he squints he can still catch a crack trailing across the surface or a chunk of debris drifting off to the side.   
  
One day those hints will fade entirely and perhaps the world will forget what happened entirely. It’s crazy enough to him that the students he’s about to meet have never seen the full moon. They were born in a world without the apocalyptic scare and without Korosensei.    
  
...He’ll teach them. He’ll teach them everything. Perhaps they’ll never see the full moon, or get to know Korosensei... But Nagisa will do everything in his power to make the past matter. Because it’s what he’s always done. And if that’s the one legacy he can leave, he’s content with that.    


* * *

  
“When did you get here?”   
  
Nagisa arrives at the school an hour ahead of time and still finds himself beat.   
  
“About fifteen minutes ago. I didn’t want to be late.”   
  
A tiny boy sits in the corner of the classroom, at the desk furthest to the back. His hands are nervously clasped. With neatly kept, fluffy, blond hair and an altogether entirely-too-formal button up suit, he stares down Nagisa, antsily kicking his little legs in the air.   
  
_...If there’s one person more neurotic than him on the fucking planet- _ _  
_   
“...Okay, Kiyoshi.”   
  
Kiyoshi Karasuma: The one student Nagisa’d known ahead of time, and a handful in his own right.    
  
The son of some very close family friends, Nagisa knows Kiyoshi well. Perhaps a little too well. In between his parents’ busy schedules and… Unconventional personalities, Nagisa and his classmates have spent a good amount of time over the past twelve years babysitting Kiyoshi. Despite a meek demeanor unfitting for anyone with the last name ‘Karasuma,’ Kiyoshi’s a kind soul, and Nagisa’s happy to see him here.   
  
...Even an hour early.   
  
“Have you put your stuff away?”   
  
“Yep,” Kiyoshi pipes up. “Apologies for inviting myself in. The door was open.”   
  
“It’s fine,” Nagisa says as he places his own stuff down on his desk. “I leave it open for a reason.” He zips open his bag and starts digging through for supplies. “Kayano says hi, by the way,” he notes without looking up.   
  
“Oh! Mom and Dad told me to send their regards, too. They’re very thankful about you taking me in.” A moment of silence before a hurried, “And I am too, of course!”   
  
Nagisa smiles. “Tell them it’s nothing. They did so much for me when I was your age. The least I can do is return the favor.” He leans down and grabs three packs of pencils.    
  
“I know,  _ I know, _ ” Kiyoshi whines. “You’ve told me the stories a million times. But it still means so much.”    
  
“Don’t sweat it,” he puts them on the desk before heading across the room. “We’re happy to have you.” He crouches down and retrieves a textbook from the corner.    
  
“Of course - I’m just… Aware I’m not your typical type of student,” Kiyoshi worries.   
  
He takes another for good measure, then brings them back to his desk. “I don’t  _ have _ a typical kind of student, Kiyoshi. That’s the point. If there’s any way I can help you, then I’m glad to have you in this class.”   
  
“Very well…” Kiyoshi falls silent, fidgeting in his seat.   
  
“...Try not to be too anxious about this year, alright?” he says, flipping open the textbooks. “It’ll be just fine.” He knows he’s parroting words he doesn’t even believe, but he’d never dare show his own anxieties in front of his students. He serves as their rock. And if he appears to believe, he can only hope that will inspire the same in them. “Junior High is some of the best years of your life, y’know.”   
  
“You’re only saying that because your Junior High was feverishly abnormal.”   
  
“Hey! No, I’m not,” Nagisa refutes as he cracks open his binder. “Sure, the assassination classroom certainly was a plus… But that wasn’t the only reason I loved it.” He carefully retrieves his lesson plan. “You’re going to learn a ton. And you’re going to make some really good friends.”   
  
“I dunno about  _ that… _ ” Kiyoshi murmurs. Nagisa looks up at him, but he’s staring down at his feet.   
  
“...You will. Trust me. I know it sounds empty coming from me, but I had  _ no _ idea what I was doing at the start of Junior High, either. I’ll be here for you. So we’ll get this figured out, okay?”   
  
Kiyoshi quietly nods. “...Alright. Thank you, Shiota-san.”   
  
“That’s Shiota- _ sensei  _ to you, young man,” Nagisa quips with a smirk.   
  
“...I can’t believe you’re really my teacher.”   
  
“And I can’t believe you’re really my student. When did you turn thirteen?”   
  
“March Twentieth.”   
  
“ _ Okay, _ smart-aleck.”    
  
He catches a tiny smile widen on Kiyoshi’s face.  _ There _ we go.   
  
“...Tell Yukimura-san I return my regards, by the way. Asano-san and Akabane-san, too!”    
  
“I’ll make sure to.”    
  
Nagisa’s eyes drift to the back of the room as he finishes unpacking his supplies. “You sure you want to sit all the way back there?”   
  
Kiyoshi jolts. “Of- Of course! Unless you’d like me to move? I’ll m-” He’s already grabbing his books.   
  
“No, no. It’s fine,” Nagisa reassures. Kiyoshi freezes before sheepishly placing his books back down.  “It just seems kind of lonely back there.”   
  
“Eh. I figure I’ll be fine. I’ll be sitting next to someone no matter what, after all.”   
  
He has a point. “Fair enough.” It almost seems sort of cozy back there. But... “You sure you don’t want to at least scoot up? You could always take the anime-protagonist-window-seat.”    
  
Kiyoshi’s face contorts with visible disgust as he glances towards the window. “I’d rather die. I… Think I’ll leave that honor to someone else.”    
  
Nagisa chuckles. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to your corner. Can’t have you dying on me.” He glances at the clock, only to find they still have a solid fifty minutes before class begins. Okay -  _ Maybe _ he overestimated how much he’d need to do before the students arrived. Especially considering he’d been tidying up the building for the past week.   
  
He awkwardly sits down. Kiyoshi gives him a knowing look.   
  
“Let me guess. You drastically overestimated how long you’d need to be here, and now you’re bored out of your mind?”   
  
“Not _ bored, _ ” Nagisa refutes. “I actually have a lesson plan I meant to finish up last night. Let me just -” He yoinks it out of his binder. “Might as well get some work done while I’m here.” He retrieves a pen from his desk and starts scrawling.   
  
“Alright. I hope you don’t mind me just... Sitting here.”    
  
“Considering you’re supposed to be here Kiyoshi, I certainly don’t.”   
  
Kiyoshi gives a tiny nod and nabs his phone from his pocket. There’s a moment of long silence, as he absentmindedly scrolls, and Nagisa hurriedly writes.   
  
“...I hope you’re right, Nagisa-sensei.”   
  
“Hm?”   
  
“That it will be a good year.”   
  
And despite it all, Nagisa only finds himself hoping the same.    
  


* * *

  
One by one, they arrive. And Nagisa tries his best to figure what to make of them. Of course he’s looked over their logs a million times. He’s been told what to expect. But he’d quickly learned that sort of thing was never good to follow as a complete rule of thumb. A student’s past never defined them, and the exterior persona they put out very rarely matched up with who they were on the inside. Surely these 26 were no different.  
  
The students excitedly chitter with one another as they wait for class to begin. One seat remains empty.   
  
A ginger-haired boy leans over his desk and makes loud conversation with the girl two seats right of him. She tries her best to shush him. Kazuki and Emiko Hisoka: Identical twins. He’s been told the former is a handful but trusts the latter to keep him under control. Not sitting directly next to him was a good first step.  
  
The girl in between them keeps her nose firmly buried in her book, occasionally shooting an annoyed look Kazuki’s way. Rin Arakawa: An intelligent girl. Her father’d had the most wonderful things to say about her.  
  
Two raggedy looking dark haired boys sit near the front with each other. They don’t attempt to spark conversation. Nagisa wonders why, before spotting the earbuds one of them has in. His music is blasting so loud it can be heard from across the room. But Nagisa figures he won’t bother him about it yet. He seems so content. They’re Yoshito Akira and Minako Mori, if he remembers correctly. He doesn’t think they know each other, but their similar appearances are enough to make him snort.  
  
A short girl in a leather jacket attempts to chat with the properly dressed, purple-haired girl next to her, but she gives her a firm cold shoulder and a disgusted look. Riko Sakamoto and Fumiko Hisakawa. Riko sighs and snidely turns to the boy on her other side, unwavered by Fumiko’s icy indifference. Nagisa notes talking to Fumiko one on one in the future. He needs to learn whether that callous attitude is simply from a bad morning, a result of the wealthy lifestyle she clearly leads, or something more deeply worrying. And regardless of the reason, he’d like to see her treat her classmates with more kindness.  
  
A pair of childhood friends whisper and pass notes. Five girls make boisterous conversation in the back. Kiyoshi keeps to himself, sending nervous glances at where the prickly Fumiko sits diagonally from him. And one seat remains empty.  
  
Class was supposed to start ten minutes ago, but Nagisa really doesn’t want to start if someone’s just running late. He flips open his attendance list, scanning to see who’s not there.  
  
Chiharu? No - He’s here. Kanon? Nope. Haurhi? He almost thinks he’s got it but notices her hiding out in the back. Oh. There it is!  
  
Makoto Himura, huh? Nagisa squints and sends another glance towards the clock. Did someone seriously skip the first day? He thinks back on this kid, and what he’d read. He was the one who’d been expelled from his last school for-  
  
The door slams open. _“Sorry I’m late!”_   
  
A disheveled, messy black-haired boy stands in the doorway, panting.   
  
Every eye in the room is on him.  
  
“It’s… Fine,” Nagisa reassures. “Just take a seat. And try not to be too late in the future, okay?”  
  
Makoto gives him a wide, relieved grin and makes his way across the room to sit down. He curtly takes the seat in front of Kiyoshi.  
  
Nagisa taps the blackboard with a ruler but the kids continue to talk. He taps again, louder, this time. “Okay. We’ll be starting now!” Slowly but surely the chatter dies down to a few hushed whispers. About half the class is actually looking at him.  
  
“Okay. Okay. Hello. Welcome to Constellate Junior High!” He greets, waving a hand. “I’m thrilled to have you all here. I hope you’ll enjoy the next three yea-”  
  
Fumiko’s hand shoots into the air. She doesn’t wait for him to call on her. “Will we be starting ten minutes late every day?” she snidely asks.  
  
“No. We won’t,” Nagisa clarifies. “Today is just going to mostly be a casual day, anyways. We’ll be going over what I expect from you, what we’ll be learning, and how exactly things will be here. As you know, it’s not quite like any other school.”  
  
A voice shouts from the back, “We’re going to get to beat your ass, right? Because you were a part of that weird moon incident way back when!”  
  
Nagisa almost rephrases the crude bluntness but thinks better of it. “You’ll get to try to ‘beat my ass,’” He clarifies. “But before we get to any of that, we have your studies to go over.”   
  
A groan emanates from half the class.  
  
“For one reason or another, each of you have ended up in this classroom. Whether it be for academic reasons, your behavior, or simply because you were in need of a solid support system.”  
  
However, Constellate is _not_ a low profile school or a punishment. In the mere few years of its existence, it’s already gained somewhat of a prestigious reputation. One that Nagisa almost loathes. Because his school is not for the ‘perfect’ students, just as much as it is not for ‘failures.’ It simply follows a different criteria for application than any other school he’s ever seen. He does not take in students based on their actual results for the entrance exams, but rather for who he feels would need his help the most. The concept of taking in students the rest of the world has given up on and fostering them… It’s all he’s ever wanted.  
  
It’s not a foolproof system. He’s received students who were perfectly well adjusted and he’s sure he’s let dozens more slip through the cracks (The thought haunts him), but he’d helped set so many children on the right path over the past three years. And, believe it or not, he’d quickly learned everyone could use a little support, even those seemingly well off. It was his job to find out how.  
  
“And… I know you likely have mixed feelings about that. Some of you are probably thrilled to have ‘made it in,’ and some of you are probably just here on your parents' behalf. Either way, by the end of your time here, I hope you’ll look back on it fondly. Because I want learning to be something you can enjoy. And I think I can turn it into that. I haven’t had a single student come out of this class without _some_ fondness for it.”  
  
He hears murmurs and catches eye rolls. But he steels himself. He’s seen himself how well it works.  
  
“You might not like everything. I’m going to work you hard. Because I know there’s great potential in each of you. And… I want to see you reach it. I won’t allow half-heartedness or let you dare give up in this room. Success is hard. But I promise I’ll be there to help you reach it through every step of the way. I’ll help you find what works best for you. Because reaching your peak potential doesn’t involve forcing yourself into a mold. As your teacher right here and now I can make you a promise: I won’t be giving up on a single one of you.”  
  
He paces. “That is...What this school embodies. The principle it was founded on. And so… If you ever need a hand, or even just need anyone to talk to, I’m here. I know you don’t believe me yet, but I swear on my life - I’m here. As your teacher, I’m only obligated to serve as your confidant, too. So I hope you can come to trust me. And I hope this can be a wonderful year. And I hope you’ll be very proud of yourselves by the end of it.”  
  
He smiles, clasps his hands, and looks out over the class.  
  
“Nice monologue,” someone snarks.  
  
“I don’t know what sort of sappiness I expected from a teacher who looks like a grade schooler…”  
  
“How fake can you get?” a boy leans over and whispers to his neighbor.  
  
Nagisa pretends not to hear it. He’ll prove himself to them in due time.  
  


* * *

  
Water balloons, BB Guns, and rubber knives are laid out before them.   
  
Nagisa’s been called insane for this a thousand times before.   
  
It’s not that he doesn’t know handing a pack of wild, troubled middle schoolers fake weapons is unprofessional at best- But he doesn’t exactly do things ‘normally’ around here.   
  
Kiyoshi’s eyes are saucers. Several students excitedly bounce on their toes.   
  
“I won’t make you wait another minute longer. Thank you for being so patient with me while I went over the school year and showed you around the building.” They’d hardly been. Going over the criteria was a goddamn nightmare. But it’s always nice to feel appreciated. “Let’s get to what you’ve really been looking forward to.”   
  
He nabs a rubber knife off the ground and gives the kids a smile. “This is the part where, before anything: I need to give you a disclaimer of what this is all about. Believe it or not, it’s not about violence. I’m not doing this to encourage any dangerous behavior, and the  _ moment _ any of you hurt yourselves, each other, or someone else, your rights to participate in this activity will be revoked.” He points the rubber blade at them with a stern look.   
  
He’ll be the first to admit the normalization of violence he’d had growing up was likely not the best influence. In hindsight, it came from the government’s eager readiness to risk and even indoctrinate children. They’d ended up being forced to take a life, and that still left some scars on him to this day. But the assassination system had held its undeniable benefits. Turning school into a competition of sorts between teacher and students that did not rely on academic factor alone was _ freeing _ . It’d helped him keep his focus and helped him come to terms with his own confusing violent thoughts.   
  
He doubts he’ll actually even find any sense of bloodlust emanating from these kids. And if anything troubling pops up he’ll merely pull them aside and talk to them. Bloodlust alone did not make a bad kid or even necessarily put them on the wrong path. He knew that better than anyone. But it was always good to check in.   
  
“This is supposed to be an enjoyable thing to get you more engaged in school. I’m NOT encouraging any of you to actually go out and commit murder. I hope I don’t need to say that.” Now that earns a few chuckles.   
  
It had actually come to him at Paradise. With the safety that the word ‘kill’ had given him. The threat had felt like greeting an old friend. And then, one of the boys had tried to stab him. It’d been a month into the first trimester when a student had brought a blade into school. But Nagisa had been intuitive enough to sense the barely cloaked bloodlust. He’d clapped, firmly grabbed the boy’s wrist, and wrestled the weapon out of his hand.    
  
So. They’d wanted to play violent, huh?   
  
As sad as it was, the administration didn’t give a shit if Nagisa bent a rule or ten. The students had already been seen as disposable deadbeats, destined for a violent future. In some ways, they were just like the E-Class.   
  
He’d went on a shopping spree and hauled his pack of harmless weapons into school. “Things are going to be a little different around here. From now on: Every time you answer a question correctly, I will let you make an attempt to ‘kill’ me. If you succeed, I’ll give you extra credit. Or even let you skip class if you’d prefer.”   
  
They’d been fucking stunned. But the task he’d laid out for them was  _ much _ harder than they’d first anticipated.   
  
Turns out when you gave a bunch of vicious, emotionally repressed kids a way to vent their anger, it helped curb their actual violence. Sometimes you just wanna stab a teacher! And when he was proud of you for it? Some of them had never had someone tell them ‘good job’ in their entire lives!   
  
Grades went up in no time.   
  
Of course, things are a little different now. He isn’t some one-subject-teacher at a run-down school. He’s singlehandedly the only teacher running Constellate. And he doesn’t have superspeed, as much as he wishes he did. If he had kids trying to kill him after every correct answer they’d never get through the school year.   
  
“As you know, a very long time ago, this building,” he gestures to the school building behind him, “was the prime location of the... Moon incident. Something I will eventually be able to teach you more about than you could possibly learn anywhere else. When Korosensei arrived I was one of the students assigned to assassinate him. And, against all odds, it did wonders for my grades and attention span. It sounds crazy, but it’s no lie! And I want to give you the same opportunity.”   
  
“Sadly, you can’t try to murder me all day. But during pop quizzes and PE Class, we’re going to have some fun, okay? Maybe if you behave we can even have games where you try to eliminate each other. In short: I’ll be giving you prime opportunities to compete against me.” He bends the knife with his finger. “Albeit with mostly harmless weapons.” He can’t regrow his limbs. Giving the First Years actual guns would be a fucking disaster. “And if you succeed in ‘fatally’ wounding me, I’ll reward you! Whether it be a small boost to your grades, an opportunity to ditch without me tattling, or another reward we could try to come up with together.”   
  
“It’ll be no easy feat! I may look unassuming, fragile, and… Small,” he grimaces, “But I’m no pushover.” Nagisa’s dextrous, intuitive, and has a great reading on people. Plus he has a trick or two of his own up his sleeve. “You’ll have to use your every ability to succeed. And that surmises most what I want you to strive for in this classroom. To push yourself hard and use every ounce of your strength. Because you can do great things if you just try.”   
  
A boy near the front raises his hand. “Like murder?”   
  
“Well- No! Not like  _ real _ murder.”   
  
“So like pretend murder.”   
  
Nagisa nods sagely. “Like pretend murder.”   
  
A few kids are staring at him like he’s an insane person, but the majority of the class excitedly chatters. Now that brings a smile to his face.   
  
“In the future, I’ll even let you go in groups and try to work out complicated plans. But for today why don’t we just fly solo? Who’d like to try first?”   
  
Fumiko’s hand flies in the air. Nagisa’s pleasantly surprised. She’d struck him as someone who wouldn’t be very passionate about any sort of hands-on activity, much less this one. But he should know better than to judge a book by its cover. And he’s thrilled to have her on boa-   
  
“I need to sit this activity out,” she bluntly states.   
  
...Ah.   
  
“Are you sure?” Nagisa asks.   
  
“I’m certain,” she says. “My parents have told me I am not to participate. Nor do I have any interest.” He can’t help but wonder if her parents even read up on his school, but she answers that question for him. “They were well aware of the... Activities that take place, but I’m here for academic purposes only.”   
  
Admittedly he’s slightly disappointed to see her shun the idea so quickly, especially on her parents’ behalf. But he does understand. Everyone has their own way of doing things, after all. “Alright. Happy to have you as an eager student.”   
  
She gives him an unimpressed look and a curt nod.   
  
“Can I sit out too?” a voice quickly pipes up.   
  
Makoto. Now  _ that  _ has him surprised. He’d struck Nagisa as the overeager type. But he’s looking up at Nagisa with wide, pleading eyes.   
  
“Of course,” Nagisa says. There’s no use arguing at this point. He’d never want to force them out of their comfort zone. At least not on the first day.   
  
Makoto gives him a relieved look. “Thank you very much, Nagisa-sensei!” he says and rushes in for a hug.   
  
Admittedly, it’s abrupt. But Nagisa would never shun affection from a student. Particularly already finding himself slightly wounded by Fumiko’s callous attitude. He reaches his arms out and accepts the boy’s embrace.   
  
**_POP!_ **   
  
Nagisa freezes, suddenly finding his shirt soaking wet.   
  
Every eye is on him. The class is stunned.   
  
And Makoto bursts out into laughter. The other kids follow in suit. Snickers and gasps erupt as someone begins to clap.    
  
“I’ll be going, now. I figure you won’t be doing much else on an introductory day.” Makoto states, whirling around. His own shirt drips as he pulls shreds of rubber out of his collar.    
  
“Hey, now- No you won’t--” Nagisa tries to refute. “For one, if that were a real attack, it would have seriously hurt you as well.” He says, pointing at Makoto’s drenched shirt.   
  
“Eh. Would have taken more than  _ that _ to take me out,” the boy brags. “Stop trying to make up excuses. You’re just mad I got you on day one!”   
  
And as much as he hates to admit it, Makoto has a point. He just can’t believe he fell for _ that _ . After  _ everything!  _ _  
_   
...But that’s no excuse for undermining Makoto’s achievement. He’d been clever and quick thinking. Nagisa hadn’t even seen him grab the balloon.    
  
“You’re right,” Nagisa admits in defeat. Admittedly this is going to make keeping up his untouchable image just a bit harder. “Good job. You can go. But next time no ‘fatally wounding’ yourse-”   
  
Makoto’s already running inside.   
  
Nagisa slowly blinks and turns to Fumiko. Makoto had to have grabbed the ‘grenade’ when he was preoccupied with her. “...Were… Were you in on that?” He asks. If so, they’d certainly made a good disaster duo.   
  
She gives him a disgusted look. “Absolutely not!”   
  
...Fair enough.   
  
A hand shoots in the air. “Are we still going to get to try to kill you? Or did he win?”   
  
Nagisa collects himself. “No, no. Of course you can still try to kill me.”   
  
“Doesn’t seem like it’ll be too hard.” Someone snarks.   
  
Nagisa feels his cheeks flush red with embarrassment, but simply leans down and begins passing out weapons. “We’ll just have to see about that,” he says. As he gives a BB Gun to Rin and tells Fumiko she can sit down and watch he feels a tiny hand tap his shoulder.   
  
“...Can I sit out too? I don’t want to hurt you...”    
  
Kiyoshi Karasuma, who Nagisa has seen load a  _ real gun  _ at his father’s behest, blinks up at him.   
  
**_For fuck’s sake!_ **   
  
He’s in for one really strange year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, boys! My first long term fanfiction project in years. I’m so excited to buckle down and attempt this, and I’m so glad Assassination Classroom inspired something like this from me.
> 
> I suppose I shouldn’t go into exactly why I wrote this fanfiction yet, since that would entail quite a bit of spoilers, but trust me when I say tons of heart has gone into it and its planning. It’s a story at its heart about Nagisa, the people who have molded his life, and the way he can mold the lives of others. And I hope that shows.
> 
> And, of course, it’s a fanfiction about second chances. We haven’t quite gotten into the meat of things yet, but if the description has tipped you off any, things are about to get fishy around here. (Well. Octopussy? Hm. Now that I’ve typed that, I don’t think I enjoy that phrase!)
> 
> I hope the inclusion of Nagisa and his convoluted polycule isn’t a huge turnoff for anyone. I couldn’t quite decide what ship I wanted to go with, if any, for Nagisa’s future. So I just went with just about everything I shipped! Because the world needs more wholesome poly relationships. I would not describe this as a ship fic even remotely, but his relationship with his spouses certainly does play a part in the plot, and I have my fingers crossed that even if your eyebrow is raised right now I can sell you on this nonsense by the end of the fic. Don’t worry. I WILL explain how they ended up in this situation sooner or later. Because HOO boy they didn’t expect this either.
> 
> As a note they are not all dating. Nagisa is with all three of them, and Karma and Asano are with each other. Kayano is not involved with those two. That said, the ones who aren’t involved are all still close friends, and consenting to this entire ordeal. They have fun here.
> 
> I ended up going with Constellate Junior High for the name of his school, but it was HARD to decide. Because how on earth do you get something cooler than fucking Paradise!? There’s simply no improving on that. That said, I tried to stay with a sort of celestial/space theme. I was going to go with something based on the moon, but figured that would be a little bit too on the nose. So I went with Constellate! A word defined as “form or cause to form into a cluster or group; gather together,” which I think is sweet for him trying to nurture a bunch of misfits, while also sounding like constellation, which is always a plus..
> 
> Sorry for bombarding so many students on you in a single chapter, by the way. If it makes you feel any better: I’m just gonna say it here and now that the only ones you really need to pay any attention to are Makoto, Fumiko, and Kiyoshi. And I hope I’ve made that clear. The rest are all just to. Y’know. Have an actual school and not Nagisa teaching three children in a void. They’re a… Interesting trio, alright. And I can’t wait to delve into how they interact. 
> 
> Music is a big thing that inspires my writing, and I can’t help but give it some credit. This fanfiction itself is named after The New Pornographers’ “Adventures In Solitude”, and the reason why will become pretty apparent PRETTY quickly if you give it a listen. I’ll probably end up listing off some songs that I listened to while I wrote every chapter, just because I love music like that. Some big influences for this one were Pokemon Mystery Dungeon’s “Goodnight”, Dear Evan Hansen’s “Does Anybody Have A Map”, Bastille’s “Lethargy”, Air Traffic Controller’s “Hurry, Hurry” and The White Stripes’ “We’re Going To Be Friends”.
> 
> And with that, I hope you’ll all enjoy Adventures In Solitude. Because I have a LOT planned, and you’re in for a wild ride.


	2. Swing of Things Time

_ “She was so proud of herself! She just - Had this expression on her face - God I can’t even describe it! And that’s day one!  I’m so excited!” _

There’s nothing on the planet that makes Nagisa more enthusiastic than his students.

“So I’m taking it your day wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be?” 

“Of course not.”

“Told you,” Karma says with a smirk. “It never is.”

It’s 7pm and Kayano just got home. Gakushuu’s whipped up a warm dinner and Nagisa is practically leaning over the table as he rambles about his day.

“I mean, of course I’m  _ antsy, _ but it’s so  _ nice _ to finally meet them. No more worrying about what could happen. Now it’s just me and them.”

“So they’re nice?” Kayano asks.

“I mean, as nice as they can be. This one boy - Kazuki? He tried to throw gum at my hair. And another girl, Haruhi, told me to “fuck off,” but it’s too early to pass judgments, really. You know how it is.”

Karma nods as he takes a bite of his food. “Yeah, yeah. You need time to weasel your way into their twisted little hearts. Middle schoolers are demons.”

“Wouldn’t you know?” Gakushuu interjects with a scoff.

“Never said I was exempt.”

“You  _ still _ haven’t grown out of your demon phase, Karma,” Nagisa notes. “I think it’ll be fine. I… Think they’ll be good kids.” They always are. Quite frankly, Nagisa isn’t sure he believes in bad kids. 

“How’d they take to PE?” Gakushuu asks.

Nagisa’s smile widens. “Great! They’re excited for it as always,” he explains. “There’s this one girl, Fumiko, who wanted to sit out- But I managed to get everyone else into it! Even Kiyoshi-”

“Oh! Kiyoshi! Did you tell him I said hello?” Kayano interrupts.

“Of course. He told me to 'pass on his regards' to you and the rest.”

Kayano can’t help but chuckle. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah, he’s as formal as ever. I think this’ll be good for him, though.” 

“Or at the very least apt revenge for what Karasuma put you through back in the day,” Karma jests.

“Everything’s revenge with you. I’ll have you know I’m _ thankful _ for what Karasuma-sensei put me through. It taught me discipline.” He’s managed to stay surprisingly fit with his training in mind. And thank fuck, considering he spends most of his day trying to keep rowdy preteens under control.

“ _ I know, I know. _ I’m shitting you.”

Gakushuu rolls his eyes. He knows all about the crazy year they’d had by now. But more often than not all he can offer is a snarky comment in response to their stories. It’s not the sort of joke he’s completely in on, as much as they’ve tried to indoctrinate him. Sometimes, the only way to truly understand some inane horseshit is to be there for yourself. Nagisa _ still  _ occasionally catches him trying to wrap his head around the logistics on what nonsense exactly he missed out on.

“Tell Kiyoshi I 'return his regards~'” Karma says in falsetto. 

Now that’s something Gakushuu can agree with. “Same here. Minus that patronizing tone.”

“Yeah. Think I’m going to cut that bit out either way,” Nagisa snarks. “I’ll tell him you said hello without making microaggressions against the middle schooler.” He feels like he’d been going somewhere else with this conversation. Shit. What was it? 

“They’re not microaggressions. Kiyoshi and I are pals!” Now that cues some light bickering from Kayano and Karma, but Nagisa’s zoned out. There’s another story he’d wanted to tell his spou-

_ Oh, yeah. _ His surprise! 

“Oh, oh! And guess what else happened during PE?” he interrupts with an excited smile. 

“Don’t tell me someone got hurt,” Kayano says.

_ “Why would I have been so enthusiastic about someone getting hurt!?” _ Nagisa sputters.

“I dunno! My mind instantly just jumped to the worst possible conclusion!” 

“And yet you mentioned that so casually!”

“Children getting skewered. A normal thing to discuss over dinner with the family,” Karma says.

“Blown up, actually.”

_ “Excuse me?”  _ Gakushuu chokes.

Nagisa waves his hand. “No, no. I’m kidding. A kid did ‘suicide bomb’ me with a water balloon, though.”  

“That isn’t exactly offering up any more context,  _ Nagisa _ ,” Gakushuu says.

“Okay, okay, so…” Nagisa leans forward excitedly. “We’re in PE going over the rules, and this girl, Fumiko, is like ‘I want to sit out.’ And I’m like, ‘Wow, okay,’ because no kid usually wants to pass up on the opportunity to stab me. And this other boy, Makoto, follows in suit, like ‘me too!’ And I’m like ‘Okay. I don’t’ see why not.’ And he’s like ‘Thank you!’ and then he hugged me...”

_ “No way-” _ Kayano says. She can already tell where this one is going.

“Yes way.” Nagisa refutes. “Of course I hug him! And the next thing I know I’m soaking wet. He’d jammed a water balloon up his shirt.”

_ “That’s exactly like what you pulled!” _ Kayano says in disbelief.

Nagisa can’t help but laugh. “I know! I was so surprised! Do you know what it’s like to be on the receiving side of that!? No wonder Korosensei was so mad at me!” 

“That has got to be cheating.” Gakushuu comments, shaking his head.

“Oh, it was definitely cheating.” Though not the most low-brow trick he’s ever seen. That would have to go to the roomba incident, hands down. “We hadn’t even started yet, and technically he should have been disqualified for eliminating himself as well. But I wasn’t about to tell him that day one. He cheated, but he  _ did _ manage to outsmart me nonetheless.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to let him walk all over you.”

“No way. I already told him he’d have to beat me fair and square next time. He was already sort of running off to ditch class, but I think he heard me.”

Gakushuu rubs the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “You’re in for a handful.”

“I always am,” Nagisa admits with a shrug and a smile.

“That’s actually the first time someone’s gotten you day one, right?” Karma asks.

“Yeah. Yamazaki got pretty close last year, but nothing like that,” Nagisa says. “You have no idea how taken aback I was! I’m _ still  _ thinking about it. It was so clever, guys!”

“Try not to think about it too much. He’s going to sniff out your weak spots.”

“I’d like to see him try.” He knows to be on his guard around Makoto from now on. At least during the appropriate times. If Makoto tries to stab him during English they’re going to have to have a long conversation on when it’s acceptable to knife your teacher. 

“Any other interesting stories? Or is getting blown up the highlight of your day?” 

“Not really. It was mostly just first-day gruelingness. But… I really do have a good feeling about this year.” He pauses. “...’Killed off’ day one or not..” 

“That’s good,” Kayano says.

“And does that mean you’re finally gonna let me get some sleep?” Karma quips.

“Oh, absolutely not. God knows my 3am thoughts are gonna come back to haunt me anyways.”

“...Delightful.” 

“No, don’t worry. I’ll haul his ass off to bed tonight,” Kayano says. 

“I’d like to see you try!” Nagisa jokes.

“If you three cause a ruckus, I _ will  _ sleep in the guestroom,” Gakushuu gripes.

_ “Noooooooooo…” _ Karma sarcastically whines, leaning to dramatically drape himself across Gakushuu. 

“Sorry, Gakushuu. We’re all in this sinking ship together,” Kayano says with a smirk.

“...Delightful.” Gakushuu glowers, but makes no effort to get Karma off of him.

“Okay, okay! I’ll try to get some sleep,” Nagisa finally relents. “But no promises.” He’d managed to get some of his work done when he first got home but he still has a few more things he’d like to prepare after dinner. Right now he’s into the idea of popping in a movie and seeing if any of his spouses will snuggle him while he attempts to map out a few lessons. Something tells him at least  _ one  _ of them will take him up on the offer.

His phone buzzes once, then twice.

“Mind if I grab that?” he asks. It’s been going on and off all day.

“Trust me when you say you don’t want to.” Kayano sends Karma a disgusted look. But he only smirks in response. 

_...Great. _

He nabs his phone from his pocket and blinks owlishly at his notifications.

_ Let’s see. A Snapchat from Sakura. Someone liked his Twitter post. And… 470+ texts from the Class-E Group Chat! _

“...You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What the hell did they do this time!?” Gakushuu asks in disbelief.

Nagisa doesn’t say a word as he opens the group chat.

The E-Class Group Chat was the logical conclusion to trying to stay in touch with each other in such a busy world. Created shortly after their unforgettable school year ended, it’s become somewhat of a staple in the E-Class’s life. For the most part, it’s grown to be inactive over the years, but it does have its spikes. And whenever there’s a lot of messages, Nagisa knows either something seriously stupid or stupidly serious has gone down.

Scrolling up past 100+ messages of “Hey Nagisa”, he quickly figures it’s the former.

[3/27/2030 5:40 PM:] [Itona]: And that’s why I think Sasuke is the backbone of our society.

[UNREAD MESSAGES]

[4/4/2030 10:12 AM:] [Sugino]: Wait. The school year started today.

[4/4/2030 10:12 AM: ] [Sugino]: Nagisa! How was your day?

[4/4/2030 10:20 AM:] [terasaka]: school hasn’t ended yet, moron

[4/4/2030 10:21 AM:] [terasaka]: he’s at work

[4/4/2030 10:23 AM:] [Sugino]: Heck. My bad.

[4/4/2030 10:25 AM:] [Maehara]: do you think he’s gonna get stabbed again?

[4/4/2030 10:26 AM:] [terasaka]: yeah lmao

[4/4/2030 10:28 AM:] [Isogai ♥]: CAN YOU GUYS NOT DISCUSS THIS IN A CHAT HE’S GOING TO SEE IN A FEW HOURS?

[4/4/2030 10:29 AM:] [Maehara]: why? he’s so good natured about getting stabbed.

[4/4/2030 10:29 AM:] [Maehara]: the man has a death wish.

Nagisa rolls his eyes. Can’t help but love his middle school classmates spreading good-natured gossip about him.

[4/4/2030 10:40 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:40 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:40 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:41 AM:] [Rio]: How was your day

[4/4/2030 10:42 AM:] [Isogai ♥]: Uh, he’s still at work, Rio. ^_^’

[4/4/2030 10:42 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:42 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:42 AM:] [Isogai ♥]: Rio.

[4/4/2030 10:43 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:43 AM:] [Sugino]: Oh my god is she ignoring you

[4/4/2030 10:44 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:44 AM:] [Sugino]: She’s ignoring you.

[4/4/2030 10:44 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:45 AM:] [Isogai ♥]: :(

[4/4/2030 10:46 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:46 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:48 AM:] [Maehara]: you’re not nearly as funny as you think you are. you know that, right?

[4/4/2030 10:48 AM:] [Rio]: ;)

[4/4/2030 10:49 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:52 AM:] [terasaka]: YOU REALIZE YOUR FLOODING ALL OUR PHONES, RGIHT?

[4/4/2030 10:52 AM:] [terasaka]: YOU ARE NOT JUST BOTHERING NAGISA.

[4/4/2030 10:53 AM:] [Rio]: ;)

[4/4/2030 10:55 AM:] [terasaka]: IM IN A MEETING

[4/4/2030 10:55 AM:] [Hazama]: *You’re

[4/4/2030 10:56 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:57 AM:] [Sugino]: Hi Hazama.

[4/4/2030 10:57 AM:] [Hazama]: Yeah hey real question what the hell is happening

[4/4/2030 10:57 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 10:59 AM:] [maehara]: DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO TURN OFF TEXT NOTIFICATIONS?

[4/4/2030 11:01 AM:] [terasaka]: IM NOT A FUCKING MORON

[4/4/2030 11:01 AM:] [terasaka]: IM JUST BORED DURING SAID MEETING

[4/4/2030 11:02 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 11:02 AM:] [maehara]: the future of our country, everyone!

[4/4/2030 11:03 AM:] [maehara]: terasaka. not. whatever the hell rio’s doing.

[4/4/2030 11:04 AM:] [Hazama]: Guys

[4/4/2030 11:04 AM:] [Isogai ♥]: Trust me when I say I’d tell you if I had an answer.

[4/4/2030 11:05 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 11:06 AM:] [Hazama]: ...

[4/4/2030 11:06 AM:] [Hazama]: Just ignore her. She’s bound to tire herself out eventually.

[4/4/2030 11:07 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 11:12 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 11:20 AM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 12:00 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 12:22 AM:] [Itona]: what the fuck.

[4/4/2030 12:24 AM:] [terasaka]: FUCKING HELL

[4/4/2030 12:30 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 12:30 PM:] [terasaka]: LOOK AT WWHAT YOU’VE DONE

[4/4/2030 12:31 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 12:31 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 12:33 AM:] [Itona]: ...

[Itona has left the chat]

[4/4/2030 12:33 PM:] [terasaka]: LOOK AT WWHAT YOU’VE DONE!!!

[4/4/2030 12:35 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 12:50 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 1:22 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Ritsu  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ added Itona to the chat]

[4/4/2030 2:01 PM:] [Itona]: Thanks

[4/4/2030 2:03 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Itona

[4/4/2030 2:04 PM:] [Itona]: Fuck You.

[4/4/2030 2:06 PM:] [✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Ritsu  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧]: ^w^

[4/4/2030 3:01 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 4:23 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa

[4/4/2030 4:30 PM:] [Okuda]: I’m divorcing you.

[4/4/2030 4:31 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Divorce Lawyer :(

[4/4/2030 4:50 PM:] [Karma]: What HAPPENED here.

[4/4/2030 4:50 PM:] [Rio]: >;)

[4/4/2030 4:51 PM:] [Karma]: I see…

[4/4/2030 4:52 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa.

[4/4/2030 4:52 PM:] [Karma]: Hey Nagisa.

[4/4/2030 4:53 PM:] [Rio]: Hey Nagisa. :D

[4/4/2030 4:55 PM:] [Karma]: Hey Nagisa. :D

...It goes on like that for a while.

Nagisa sighs and looks up at Karma. “Why do you guys love making my life a living hell?”

But Karma’s nose is buried in his phone.

Nagisa’s phone buzzes.

[4/4/2030 7:31 PM] [Karma] hey nagisa

Nagisa takes a picture of himself flipping the bird, and promptly sends it to his friends.

“...Something stupid, I take it?” Gakushuu groans.

Gakushuu’s been firmly excluded from the Class-E group chat. He couldn’t get in if he tried. And… He’s tried. 

Nagisa thinks he’s the lucky one. 

“Yeah. Rio thought it would be a fantastic idea to spam the chat.”

“Not just Rio! Me too. Don’t downplay just how obnoxious I can be.” Karma brags.

“Rio started it,” Kayano snarks. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.”

Gakushuu rolls his eyes. “Okay, the usual. I see.”

In his youth, he’d made incessant efforts to weasel his way into their group chat, but with time he’s given up the effort. Growing up, he realized it was immature at best to try to force himself into a group that he bullied in middle school, and realized just about everything that goes down in that chat is dumb as all hell anyway. 

Nagisa would have to agree. He only stays out of sentimentality.

He opens up the Snapchat. Sakura gives him a peace sign and a thoroughly unimpressed look. “Good luck dealing with the children. You’ll need it.”

He chuckles. For someone who  _ was  _ the child he was dealing with once, she sure seems to think that will be a difficult task. She’s not entirely wrong.

He leaves himself a mental note to snap her back in the morning. As apathetic as she can come off, she’s made sure to check up on him every year. As his first student, it… Means a lot.

“...Are you going to finish eating, or are you going to smile at your phone all night?” Kayano jokes.

Nagisa jolts “Ah-- I think I’m finished.” It’s been a long day. He doesn’t exactly have the biggest appetite. 

“Okay, okay,” Kayano relents. “No going back to work, yet, though.” She insists, placing her hand on his. “Give yourself time to breathe.”

“...Yeah. I will,” he says, leaning into her touch. “...I was wondering, after dinner could we toss on a movie? How about your latest drama?” He decides he can get some work done after. It’s still early in the night, he has time to spare for them.

“...That sounds lovely.”

“That’s the one where they have you playing a sixteen-year-old girl, right?” Gakushuu asks.

“Yep,” Kayano says. “But I’ll have you know I  _ nailed  _ the role.”

“Sounds like a hoot,” Karma says. “I’m in.” 

“...Same here,” Gakushuu agrees.

Nagisa smiles and stretches. And even with such an intimidating year looming on the horizon, he finds himself relaxing the only way he knows how: Because of the people he loves.

* * *

Kiyoshi Karasuma has never been great with group work. Namely because he’s not great with people.

He’s good with them in theory. His mom’s walked him through the ups and downs of navigating conversation a thousand times. He knows how to make people laugh and he knows how to make people trust him. He was popular enough in his old school. He had plenty of friends. And he’s sure, with some time, he’ll be popular here.

But it won’t get rid of that voice in the back of his mind.

He’s… Not like his parents. They’re some of the coolest people he knows. And he means that! Just about everything they do is helping hundreds, if not  _ thousands _ of people across Japan. His dad’s cool and collected, and his mom’s a badass who won’t take no for an answer. They’ve saved, taken, and changed lives. They’re  _ heroes _ .

And Kiyoshi is too afraid to approach a partner for group work.

He knows Nagisa isn’t antagonizing him. The man is doing his job! Hell, he’s not even looking his way.

And he knows the routine, too! There’s no need to put one more ounce of thought into it. Approach someone and give them an unwavering smile. Spark small talk or perhaps compliment them on something. “Hey. Want to work with me? I could use someone smart like you on board.” He thinks that’s the key to it. Butter them up. But is that  _ wrong? _ Manipulative? Or is he just overthinking it?

He thinks he’s scared of bothering people. Because he’s scared of what other people think. Because even if he does everything perfectly, each and every person has their own facade. What if they return that smile to mask an annoyed twinge in their gut? A dismayed “Oh, for fuck’s sake, not  _ him, _ ” hiding behind friendly conversation?

He  _ knows _ that’s not how people work. But that doesn’t stop him from overthinking it. And _ that  _ just makes him more antsy. And _ that _ just makes him wait longer to approach another student. And **_that_ ** makes his head hurt.

Maybe if he waits long enough he can work with no-one. They’d let him do that at his old school. But he’d been told Junior High was going to be different. He told himself he was going to be different. He was going to be someone who wouldn’t hesitate. But telling yourself you would do something was super different than actually doing it!

Oh God. If he waits even longer will he get to work with  _ Nagisa? _ He’s had teachers pull him aside in the past in classes with uneven numbers. It’s usually a petrifying thought, but he likes Nagisa. He likes that whole family. He’s comfortable with them. He’d love to work with Nagisa!

He quickly scans the class, trying to count. Is anyone absent? C’mon! C’mon! Someone be absent. He has to keep his fingers cro-

A hand slams down on his desk. Kiyoshi lets out a pathetic squeak

“You. We’re gonna work together.” 

Makoto Himura stares him down. 

Kiyoshi blinks, searching for something to say. But Makoto’s already pulling up a chair next to him.

He’s gotten a pretty good reading on Makoto over the past three days. With the seat directly behind him, Kiyoshi’s had a front seat view of his every move. The way he never seems to stop wiggling in his seat, and the bold way he speaks up over Nagisa. That ballsy, impressive stunt he’d pulled on the first day. Petty arguments he’d gotten into with his classmates and the utter disrespect he seems to hold for the sanctity of the classroom. He doesn’t seem like a bad person, per se. Just weird as h-

“You don’t talk much, do you?” He has his elbows up on Kiyoshi’s desk, looking across at him with wide eyes.

“I- Er-” He takes a second to gather himself. “Sorry. I was just thinking.” 

Makoto nods quickly. “You can grab the stuff.”

It’s just now hitting Kiyoshi that Makoto hadn’t even asked to be partners. He’d just sort of decided. But sending a quick glance around the classroom, he realizes he’s dug this grave for himself. And as such, he sheepishly stands up and goes to retrieve their books.

Everyone else has made themselves at home. He sees people excitedly chatting up their partner as Nagisa scans the room a second time just to make sure everyone is content.

He’s content! He’s content, he swears!

He gingerly grabs two textbooks and worksheets, bringing them back over to his desk. Makoto nabs them in a flash, with a loud “Thanks!” and a wide smile.

...Kiyoshi awkwardly sits down.

Makoto’s foot won’t stop tapping. It’s driving Kiyoshi insane. Makoto flips open the textbook. “Okay, okay…” he murmurs. “Page 127.”

_ Does this guy ever stop talking?  _

“I’ve never actually done this sort of thing before, so I might need a bit of help,” he continues to ramble, flipping through the pages.

_ Okay. Clearly not. _

“...Alright.”

Makoto manages to find the right page. He messily scrawls his name on his paper. Kiyoshi follows in suit, then quickly begins to tackle his own half of the problems. 

“Thanks!” says Makoto. “I know Nagisa sorta went over it, but I didn’t really get it.”

_ Probably  _ because he barely seemed to be paying attention in the first place! But Kiyoshi doesn’t dare voice that.

“No problem.”

It’s simple work. Division and multiplication of negative numbers. Kiyoshi’s far from big on math, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. 

Makoto curiously peeks over his shoulder as he works. Kiyoshi tries not to pay him any mind. (Emphasis on tries.) Don’t think about the strange boy looming ominously over him. Focus on the work. _ 46 times -32. That’s… That’s- _

“Y’know, this class is super weird,” Makoto butts in. “And I’ve been to a lot of schools.”

GREAT. He’s one of  _ those _ kids.

“...Yeah,” Kiyoshi says. “Shiota-sa-” He pauses. “...-sensei takes pride in doing things differently. He’s super passionate about it. He’s done it for a long time.”

Makoto blinks. “Do you know the guy? That’s a pretty casual way to talk about your teacher.”

That's rich, coming from the guy who addresses his teacher by first name!

“Oh- Mmm!” Kiyoshi sheepishly admits. “He’s a family friend. My mom and dad actually taught him way back when.” Family friend is putting it lightly. Sometimes Kiyoshi feels the Shiota-and-Gang family have watched him grow up more than his own folks. 

Makoto smirks “...I thought so,” he brags. “I mean, not just because of that. You seem super comfortable around him.”

“Super comfortable?” Kiyoshi asks.

“Well, I mean, you  _ never _ seem comfortable, but you at least seem to trust him. Which is cool, considering you look ready to cry just about all the time.”

Kiyoshi blinks. How had Makoto read him so quickly!? And with such candidness. The worst part is he doesn’t even seem to have meant it as a diss. That all too friendly smile is still planted firmly on his face.

“I - Well -  _ Uh - Um- _ ” Kiyoshi sputters, reeling back. “...Yes, I trust Shiota-sensei. And yes, I am just about always ready to cry,” he tosses on with a halfhearted chuckle.

“Hey, well, that’s cool!” Makoto pauses for a long moment. He sends a quick glance Kiyoshi’s way. “The Nagisa thing. Not the crying thing. Duh.”

“...Duh,” Kiyoshi repeats.

“I kinda like how weird it is,” Makoto diverts. “I like the snake. And I like the mountain. And I like the work, even if I don’t get a lot of it. I like trying to attack Nagisa, too!”

Kiyoshi’s noticed that by now. Makoto’s made his fair share of attempts since that first day, but none have gone through as seamlessly as that initial ‘suicide bombing.’ Nagisa’s kept a close eye on the boy, now that he’s seen how conniving he can be. The whole class is seeming to take to it, in fact! The moment Nagisa mentions PE-Class, every head perks up.

Kiyoshi thinks it’s okay. Nagisa’s coerced him into trying, but it’s not really his strong suit. The thought of violence makes him squeamish, and he’s not exactly athletic, either.

...He supposes he should just be happy the others are having a good time. No use being a buzzkill.

“Yeah. It’s neat,” he agrees. “It’s actually inspired by his own classes. Wh-”

“The fucked up octopus thing, right?” Makoto interjects.

“Korosensei, yeah.” 

_ Everyone  _ knows about Korosensei. It’s a scandal from long before their time, but it weighs on the hearts of many. Each and every time they look up at the moon, there’s a reminder that something horrible happened. With research that was released shortly after by the United States in mind, there are still debates over whether or not the murder of the creature was unethical. And… Knowing more details than the average person, Kiyoshi has to agree it’s pretty sad.

…With the tie he wears like an albatross around his neck, Kiyoshi can only imagine how much sadder it is to Nagisa. His parents told him he’d taken it  _ super _ hard back then. And it still seems like he's taking it hard sometimes now.

Kiyoshi can't exactly blame him.

“I think he’s trying to carry on his legacy. And repeat what worked for him, I figure.”

“...Awww. That’s almost sweet,” Makoto comments. “Nagisa seems pretty thoughtful.”

“...You really shouldn’t call him that,” Kiyoshi finally says. 

“Why?”

“I dunno. It just seems rude. He’s, like, our teacher. Don’t you respect him?” 

“I mean, yeah,  _ sorta. _ ” Makoto gives a shrug. “I just don’t think he really  _ cares _ . He went on that long rant about how he wants to be our friend. And he encourages us to  _ stab him _ . He doesn’t feel like someone I need to be normal with.”

“Fair enough, I guess.” But the concept of addressing any teacher, even one he’s known his entire life, on first name basis still has his head spinning.

Makoto speaks up. “Hey. Can you actually give me a hand here?” he asks, pointing to a problem. It’s only now that Kiyoshi notices he hasn’t even made it through one. The paper’s covered in eraser-marks and frustrated scribbles.

He leans over to give it a look. Okay, okay. -22 times -53. “Well, when there’s two negative numbers you’re multiplying, the result turns into a positive number.”

“...What?”

“Think about multiplying negatives less like making something negative specifically, and more as switching the sign. When you switch it twice, it cancels out and goes back to being positive.”

Makoto’s silent, for once.

“...And how do you do 22 times 53?” He nervously asks.

“Wait. You don’t know that?”

“...Not really,” Makoto halfheartedly admits.

Kiyoshi sighs. It seems he has even more on his hands than he first bargained for. But nonetheless he takes the paper and starts to solve the base problem.

“If you don’t know this, you should really talk to Shiota-sensei about that,” he says. “I’m happy to help where I can, but I’m not really any sort of tutor.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” Makoto says, still leaning over Kiyoshi’s shoulder.  “...You have nice handwriting,” he comments. 

“...Eh?” Now that makes Kiyoshi pause for a moment.

“It’s neat,” he explains. “Very easy to read.” 

Huh. Kiyoshi’s never really thought about that before. But admittedly it feels kind of nice to hear.

He finishes up the problem and slides the paper back Makoto’s way. “Did that help any?”

“Yeah! I think so,” Makoto says, fiddling with his pencil. He squints as he stares down the second question. “So… Like this, right?” He asks as he makes his own attempt. It’s Kiyoshi’s turn to watch him closely.

“Yeah, exactly. Though be careful with multiplying 9s. Oh, and don’t forget to add the negative symbol.”

“Oh!” Makoto nods vigorously. Seeming quite pleased with himself, he dramatically slams his pencil down as he finishes.

“You’re not done quite yet. You still have nineteen-something problems to go.” 

“I know, I know!” he refutes with a giggle. “But just let me have this small victory.” 

“Okay, okay,” Kiyoshi relents.

“...I’m probably gonna need a hand with the division too,” Makoto says. “Hope you don’t mind giving me a bit more of a hand?”

“Not really.” Admittedly Makoto’s forthcoming, but Kiyoshi’s always been told to help where he can.

“Awesome!” Makoto fist pumps excitedly. “I knew I made the right choice picking you as my partner!”

“Ehhhhhhhh…” Kiyoshi skeptically wiggles his hand.

“Don’t diss yourself. I think you helped me out pretty good today, at least.”

“...Today’s not over.”

“Well, then,” Makoto huffs, sliding his chair closer. “Better get to helping me before Nagisa gets fed up with how much time we’re eating up, huh?” 

He gives Kiyoshi a cheeky grin. 

“...I suppose I should.” 

And as the period drags on he finds himself minding the noise just a little less.

* * *

Fumiko, on the other hand, scares him.

She’s a petite girl, standing at roughly 4’11. With neatly kept short purple hair and a striking pout, she crosses her leg over her lap and stares daggers their way.

_ Their _ way? When had it become _ their _ way!? He is  _ not _ affiliated with him!

“Morning!”

It’s 8:20 on a Monday morning. Nagisa hasn’t arrived, and Makoto is hellbent on conversing with the most demonic person in the class. 

“...Good morning,” she returns, thoroughly unimpressed as she digs through her supplies.

Fumiko arrives at roughly the same time each morning. She unpacks her stuff and promptly gets to work. She speaks to no-one, and Makoto says hello.

She sits PE out and stalks with piercing eyes from the sidelines. She makes no hesitation in sassing Nagisa, and is equally rude to just about everyone around her.  She walks the same route home as Kiyoshi, and never once speaks a word. He’s careful to keep his distance.

Makoto isn’t once deterred by the same hesitation, and Kiyoshi supposes that’s why he keeps finding himself drawn to him.

Regardless of the reception he receives, he greets Fumiko and attempts to make small talk. He waves each and every one of his classmates over as they walk in the door and 'hello’s’ them with enthusiasm. Despite any weird looks he receives, it’s hard not to take to that warmth.

“How was your morning?” he asks, leaning over his desk. “It’s so windy out today, the walk to school killed me.” Yeah. His unruly mess of hair makes that much evident. “But it’s still  _ way  _ hotter out than I thought it would be. Are you excited for today’s lesson? I don’t really get it, but I know  _ someone _ will give me a hand.” He winks with both eyes as he glances back at Kiyoshi.

Fumiko gives an apathetic shrug.

Sometimes watching the two of them converse feels like watching someone throw rocks at a wild animal. Fumiko’s irritation is just barely hidden. But who is he to intervene? The madman willing to step in between the beast and the even madder-man willing to prod it like that? No way, no how.  _ No sirree! _

Fumiko sends a look this way, as if asking him if he’s hearing any of this nonsense. 

Kiyoshi avoids eye contact. Yeah. He’s feeling the heat of secondhand embarrassment pretty hard. Hanging out with Makoto tends to do that. But he just can’t tear himself away.

Makoto’s brash, and he’s bold, and he never once shuts up. But he’s undeniably charming, too. He’s simply not capable of being ingenuine. And as much as that causes mortifying things to spill out of his mouth, it makes his kindness feel all the more meaningful.

Kiyoshi’s still thinking about the handwriting comment. How he'd excitedly praised Rika Sakamoto’s shock pink hair, or the coolest hoodie Rikuto Gomi had worn to class. He’d even managed to toss out a passionate (and equally as insensitive) comment about how Nagisa’s height must help with his agility. He has something good to say about just about anyone.

...Even Fumiko Hisakawa.

“Nice coat!” he comments as Fumiko hangs something more expensive than the entirety of Kiyoshi’s life savings over the back of her chair. 

“Mmmm.”

Nagisa finally enters. Fumiko pipes up with an irritated “You’re late.”

There’s one thing she actively talks about, and contrary to Makoto’s sickeningly sweet sunshine, it’s her distaste for other human beings.

Nagisa seems unbothered as he gingerly places his stuff on his desk. “Actually, I’m not. It’s only 8:25. I guess you gotta keep me on my toes, though, huh?”

Kiyoshi’s not sure how he does it. If someone spoke to him that way he’d shut down. He’s learned from experience that most of his fears are usually unfounded, but not with someone like Fumiko. He has no doubts she’d legitimately whoop his ass if he even so much as looked at her the wrong way.

But Nagisa - Nagisa’s not scared of her, either. Nagisa is patient, Nagisa is kind, and Nagisa has every right to be, considering he’s seen much worse from students. Kiyoshi wouldn’t be surprised if he’s had a chair thrown at his head before.

She huffs but doesn’t humor Nagisa with a response.

Makoto waves at him with all the enthusiasm he can muster, as if trying to make up for her lack of it. “Good morning, Nagisa!”

Nagisa gives a tired smile. “Hello, Makoto.” He’d stopped trying to correct him on formalities a week ago.

Makoto has a persuasive way to him like that. There’s something even more to him than the fact that watching his every action is something akin to witnessing a colorful, passionate kaleidoscope of a train wreck. He’s rude and he’s loud, but he’s a surprisingly smooth talker. He has a way of making just about anything seem reasonable.

That’s how he’d managed to get Kiyoshi Karasuma barrelling between Nagisa’s legs, fake knife flailing, when he’d roped him into an assassination scheme during P.E last Friday. It hadn’t worked... But he’d  _ tried _ it! And that was just about the last thing he’d ever expected from himself. Makoto had just made it seem so reasonable!

He has a near-hypnotic quality to him. Beneath that goofy exterior, there’s something downright conniving in him- and it impresses Kiyoshi to his core.

And that’s why he thinks that Fumiko gets to Makoto so much. Because she’s not under his spell. While the rest of the class has taken to his shenanigans where they can, she’s dug her heels firmly into the dirt. But that only eggs him on further.

And so, every day, he watches the cycle of small talk ensue. He simply listens, and what he hears is a strange back and forth unlike anything he’s ever seen.

Nagisa gets up to write on the chalkboard and Makoto taps his foot. Class bustles and Kiyoshi catches Fumiko doodling in the margins of her notebook.

He doesn’t say anything.

Their conversations are weird enough as is.

* * *

Nagisa comes to know them quickly.

Kaya seems sleepy, but his head perks right up during Home Ec.

Terumi walks with a limp but she has a penchant for English and a knack for long-ranged combat.

Rin’s excellent with math, and it turns out she loves to mess with tabletop games after school.

Rikuto skates and Kiku has a fascination with swords. Hachirou thrives during science, but Chiharu is more suited for Ethics. Riko and Emiko hit it off quickly. Kazuki vandalizes the building, and Rosey helps him wipe it down after class. Nagisa gets a plan figured out with Yoshito. It turns out he pays attention better when he’s listening to music. They agree to let him keep one earbud in. If his grades drop they can talk it over again.

Fumiko’s attitude doesn’t change. He can cross ‘had a bad day’ off the list of ideas as to why she’s like this. She makes snarky comments all throughout the day, but he never gives her an irritated reaction. He’s sure she’ll open up with time. He steps in when she’s cruel to her classmates, and watches her carefully, but otherwise lets her be. She doesn’t engage in assassination.

Kiyoshi’s as quiet as ever. Nagisa tries to gently push him to reach out to his classmates, but he also gives him his space. He knows it takes Kiyoshi time to adapt to a new environment. And even if his shoulders are tense now, he’ll grow used to things in time. He makes his best efforts to participate, however anxiously. And Nagisa’s already proud of that. He’s antsy, but Nagisa knows his presence is helping. He’ll have friends in no time.

...Speaking of.

Makoto Himura. His arrival is sporadic and his mouth never shuts- But he shows up each day with a smile. He doesn’t manage to get another “kill” in on Nagisa, who has to gently remind him not to get too off topic during class. He rolls his eraser around on his desk, and wiggles in his seat.

He made an effort to reach out to Kiyoshi seemingly just out of the kindness of his heart. He’s enthusiastic and he’s silly. He loves attention and making people laugh. He’s obnoxious and he’s petty. When Nagisa tells him to cut something out, he purses his lips and huffs. He has a skip to his step and a distinctly wide grin. In the weirdest way, he reminds Nagisa of someone else.

Well, except for one thing.

Makoto slumps over on his desk, letting out a dramatic sigh.

“This doesn’t make any sense!”

To say Makoto is behind is a massive understatement.

It’s not that he hadn’t known what he was getting into. His entrance test scores were… Not great, and his handwritten application letter had been littered with misspellings. Tons of his data was missing, seeing as how he’d been tossed between six separate schools before this.

But this is exactly why Nagisa does what he does. It’s nothing he can’t handle.

“What part aren’t you getting?”

“All of itttttt…” Makoto whines.

Makoto had come to him asking to be tutored about a week into the school year. And a week into their little arrangement, Nagisa’s learned the severity of the situation. The kid barely has a fourth-grade education. He’s missing out on very basic concepts. It’s nightmarish.

His job is very hard sometimes.

He reaches for the paper and gestures for Makoto’s attention. “Watch me,” he says, walking through the problem.

Makoto reluctantly sits up, eyes glued to his work. He squints, but doesn’t speak up. 

“Okay. So what part are you having the most trouble with?” Nagisa tries to rephrase.

“First of all, I still don’t get why there’s an x. What are you doing with it? And why are they giving you the solution to the problem!?”

“Your goal is to figure out what the x is. It’s a variable. It can be anything.”

“If it can be  _ anything _ , why can’t I just answer with anything I want?” Makoto retorts.

“Well, not that sort of anything. It has a concrete answer in each question. But X isn’t like Pi in that it represents one specific thing across different problems.”

“Pi?” Makoto asks.

“Okay... Don’t worry about that right now.” Nagisa handwaves. No need to make it more complicated than it already is. “Think about it this way. Let’s start small. You know two plus two equals four, right?”

“Duh.” 

“Okay. So if the question is ‘two plus x’, and the answer is ‘four’, then what does that make the value of x?”

Makoto thinks it over, before hesitantly speaking up. “...Two?”

“Yeah! But the answer’s not always two. If ‘two plus x’ equals ‘five’, then what’s x?”

Makoto perks up. “Three, right!?”

“Exactly!” Nagisa says. “They’re not giving you the answer, they’re presenting it in a different way.”

“Seems needlessly complicated," Makoto gripes. But he seems more attent nonetheless.

“Of course, things get more complicated when you work with bigger numbers. No-one wants to spend their time counting on their fingers what you add to ‘435’ to make ‘708’. That’s why you can reverse engineer it too. Because, for example, five minus two equals three.”

Makoto nods. “And so…” He begins scribbling on his paper, forehead scrunched as he intently works “...X would be 273!” He exclaims, proudly circling his answer.

He’s behind, but he’s not stupid. There’s no such thing as a stupid kid. It can take him a minute to get things, but he  _ can _ get them. And while he doesn’t seem to always remember concepts, a basic reminder or gentle nudge is good at pushing him in the right direction. He makes a show of it, but he’s eager to learn. And he tries. Hard. He lights up whenever things finally click.

“Okay. Okay. Give me a few more. I’ve got this!”

Nagisa writes half a dozen problems for him. And in no time he’s hard at work, counting on his fingers, and biting his tongue.

“...Eight times nine is 64, right?” he checks, glancing in Nagisa’s direction.

“72,” Nagisa says. He still has trouble with his times tables. It seems he hasn’t had much experience with multiplication and division, if any at all. And big numbers still make him stumble, but he’s working on it.  

“Okay!” Makoto says, scribbling out his previous answer.

Math isn’t the only subject he struggles in, of course. Nagisa’s gotten a pretty good estimate in on all of them and... Things aren’t great. He’s lacking basic knowledge of most history, fails to recognize a large number of kanji, and seems to have a misconception that science is capable of making literally anything and everything blow up. His English is lackluster, and Home EC gets him snoring.

Nagisa’s never seen anything like it. He has a lot of work ahead of him.

“Can… Can x be negative?”

“Of course."

“Even if there’s not a negative symbol in front of the x?”

“Yeah. For the most part, there will never be negative symbols in front of variables. It makes things more confusing than needed.”

“...Okay, okay.” Makoto nods diligently. 

He’d applied to the school himself, without parental involvement. The homemade application had proven that much. He’s here for a reason, and regardless of any lazy or uneasy vibes he gives off, that reason has to be that he wants to learn. He WANTS to be here. He wants to have a chance. And Nagisa’s damn determined to give that to him.

He finishes up his work and proudly slams his pencil down on the table. “Done!” he says, giving Nagisa an enthusiastic grin.

...His job may be hard, but hell if it’s not worth it. 

He reaches for Makoto’s paper. “Okay. That’s enough math for now. How about you get started on your grammar while I check this?”

“Can I have a fifteen-minute break first?”

“Five,” Nagisa refutes.

“Thirteen.”

“Seven.”

“Ten.” 

“Ten it is.” Something tells him he isn’t going to manage to get it any lower than that.

Makoto kicks his feet up on another chair, stretching lazily. “...And can I get a snack, too?”

“Of course.” Nagisa digs through his bag.

He’d asked for food day one of tutoring. Nagisa’d figured there was no harm in obliging. Turns out the kid has a sweet tooth. Admittedly he’s a little worried he’s not getting enough to eat at home if he’s so desperate to get something here, but he can’t jump to conclusions. It’s just as likely Makoto, mischievous as he is, just wants to see if he can weasel something out of his teacher.

...Nagisa figures he’ll let him have that victory.

He tosses a chocolate bar his way. Makoto tears it open with his teeth. And in an instant, he’s digging in.

“Hungry, huh?” Nagisa quips.

“Duh! All this hard work takes a lot of energy out of a guy!” 

“You’re getting a hang of these concepts a lot quicker than I thought you would. We’ll be caught up in no time,” Nagisa says. That’s an exaggeration. This could take… Months. But it’s nice to look on the bright side! “You’re doing good.” 

“I know."

And with that boundless enthusiasm comes boundless confidence. Makoto clearly believes in his own abilities, and that’s a good sign. A… Lot of kids his age don’t, especially at his level. 

“You still hanging out with Kiyoshi?” Nagisa asks.

“Yeah!” Makoto replies. “We’re, like, partners in crime. He is so smart!”

“...Partners in crime, huh?” Nagisa asks skeptically. Now he wouldn’t go  _ that _ far.

Nagisa’s watched the two of them. Admittedly he still sees the way Kiyoshi’s shoulders tense around Makoto, but he seems happy to help where he can in getting him caught up. It’s a relief. He needs as much help as he can get. And something tells him someone like Makoto is a good influence for Kiyoshi.

“Okay, it’s more like I’m the mafia leader, and he’s the sniveling baby, but we still work together!” He pauses. “...I like him, though. He’s nice. So, yeah! I try to spend time with him.” 

“I’m sure he really appreciates you doing that.”

“I know.”

“Huh-?” 

“I figured he needed it,” Makoto says matter-of-factly. “When I first decided to be his partner, I saw him sitting there like some deer in the headlights. And I knew no-one else was gonna deal with him. So I was like ‘that’s the one!’ He seems upset pretty much… All of the time, but that only makes me want to try to be his friend harder!”

Nagisa blinks. “...That’s… Super sweet.”

Makoto gives a warm smile. “Eh. I try my best.” He crumples up the wrapper into a ball in his hands and places it on the table. “He’s smart. And funny, too. I like him. I like everyone here.”

That’s why Nagisa can’t stop wracking his brain over it. What happened here? Makoto’s clearly a thoughtful, kind kid. How could the system screw him over so badly? How had they let things get to this point? Why had no-one stepped in before now?

...Sometimes he hates the system he serves.

“Well, I think you’re plenty smart and funny, too. I’m glad you like it here, Makoto.” 

Makoto beams. “Glad you’re glad I’m glad to be here.”

Now isn’t that a headache of a phrase? Nagisa can’t help but chuckle. “You know, if you don’t mind me asking, is that why you keep trying to talk with Fumiko?”

He’s seen the way they stubbornly interact. Every morning and every free period he goes out of his way to bother her. 

“Bingo!” Makoto says with a pair of finger guns. “She is  _ super _ mean. But… I think she’s lonely, too. She’s gotta be if she’s that rude. No-one else tries to talk to her.” 

He’s not wrong. Everyone else is far too afraid of getting burned.

“But I’m not scared of her!” he continues. “So I’ll make sure she’s not lonely. Eventually, she’s gotta warm up to me. I’m a  _ delight. _ ”

“That’s very kind of you,” he says. “...Though make sure to give her some space, too. You don’t want to get on her nerves too much.” Then she might end up  _ really _ disliking him. It’s a fine line to walk between persistent kindness and persistent pestering, particularly with preteens. He’s glad Makoto is stepping in to prevent her from isolating herself from her classmates, though. There’s only so much gentle nudges and group work can do.

“Yeah, yeah,” Makoto says. “Don’t sweat it, Nagisa. I know what I’m doing. Sooner or later she’ll be, like, my best friend. I just know it.”

Now that’s the sort of unbridled confidence Nagisa wishes he had. “Well, I can’t wait to see that happen. Good luck, Makoto.”

“No need. I don’t need it,” Makoto sneers. He’s silent, for a moment, before, “I think I’m ready to get back to work.”

Nagisa checks his watch. Ah - He guesses it is about that time. “Alright. Let’s get started on your gra-”

_ “Wait!”  _ Makoto says, scrambling for the wrapper. “Let me toss this out first, ‘kay?” And in an instant he’s on his feet, darting across the room, and slam dunking it in the trash can.

...He really is a thoughtful kid.

That has to be why he reminds him of Korosensei. Beyond the wild smile. Beyond the stubbornness and the sweet tooth. It’s that he goes out of his way to make others feel better. It’s a trait not enough people have. They would have gotten along well.

He rushes back over to the desk, chair practically skidding as he slides in.

He’s a kind, intelligent, and good person- Regardless of what the world seems to think of him so far.

And that’s why his final similarity to Korosensei can’t mean anything. Why there has to be a reason. Why Nagisa can’t give up on him, despite the blaring warning signals.

Who cares if he was expelled from his last school for stabbing a classmate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! Chapter 2!
> 
> I’m trying to keep this on an update schedule of roughly every 2 weeks, but… We’ll just have to see about that. I’m working hard, you know! School, work, AND writing? It’s enough to make my head spin. But I like to think I’ve gotten into a pretty good routine. I’m writing at least 500 words a day, if not more. So I’m slowly whittling away at this thing!
> 
> Alongside Nagisa’s spouses, I couldn’t help but also feature some of the rest of his middle school friends (“Friends”?). I think the idea of them keeping a group chat is. Super cute. And I had fun writing some shenanigans. So don’t count the rest out of the plot, yet! They’re on high alert! Who knows what they’ll get dragged into.
> 
> As for Nagisa’s spouses, I hope I’m doing a good job of making everyone warm up to them. It’s really a soft sort of dynamic, and I can’t wait to explore it more. Because fiction (And in particular fanfiction) never tends to explore relationships that are years old, and rather focuses on the meet cute. That’s excellent and all, but there really is something sweet about coming home to people you’ve known and loved for years. I think it’s a comfort Nagisa needs’s
> 
> Betch’ya didn’t expect some scenes from Kiyoshi’s perspective, did’ya? This fic isn’t gonna be solely from Nagisa’s perspective, although I’d still describe him as serving as our ‘protagonist’. You’re gonna get some scenes from not only Nagisa, but all of the kid trio, and Nagia’s spouses! Fun stuff. I had a lot of fun getting into Kiyoshi’s head, especially as someone who struggles with group work myself. His dynamic with Makoto is… Something, alright.
> 
> Fumiko’s a big ol meanie as usual. Nothing to go into depth on there. Sooner or later I’m sure she’ll open up. (Or not. Maybe she’ll just punch every other character in the face)
> 
> Anddddd of course, that cliffhanger. Makoto is an… Interesting character, alright. But as for the details behind that situation, you’re gonna have to wait a little while. So stay in your seats! He’s probably not a bad person? But I suppose there’s no way to know for sure.
> 
> I actually finally drew profiles of the kids recently, so here they are! If you want an idea of what they look like, here you go! http://jdphobe.tumblr.com/post/183767492400/profiles-for-the-adventures-in-solitude-kids
> 
> Some songs I blared while writing this chapter were Artist Vs Poet’s “Kids Again”, Will Roland’s “Goin’ Viral”, Book of Mormon’s “You and Me (But Mostly Me)”, Cavetown’s “Lemon Girl”, and The Lightning Thief’s “Good Kid”. Give them a listen! They’re bops and thematically relevant. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! And make sure to lmk what you thought! Because lord knows I love validation. I’m already hard at work on the next chapter, so I hope to see you soon! 👍


	3. Friend Time

Being approached by a stranger is bad. Being approached by a stranger who routinely looks like she’s going to tear you limb from limb is even worse.

_ “Hey, listen.” _

Kiyoshi’s made a deliberate effort to avoid Fumiko on the way home from school- And she’s done the same. They’re not exactly social people. So he’s kept to himself and she’s kept to hers. It’s a nice little routine they have.

That’s why it’s so weird when she approaches him and firmly taps his shoulder.

“E-Eh?”

“Can you get your weird friend to stop bothering me?” 

...Ah. So that’s what it’s about.

“I- uh- ah-” he sputters. “I… Don’t think I can really tell him what do do. He doesn’t listen to me...”

She gives him a disappointed look and walks ahead. She doesn’t dignify him with a response. 

“I mean - Shit - We’re hardly even friends.” Well, now  _ that _ sounds rude! “Well, we _ are? _ Maybe? I don’t really know the guy. He just kind of showed up one day,” he rambles. Before he knows it, he’s following on her heels. “He’s nice, really! Scary, too. But it’s not like I can get him to go away. He does his own thing. I think I’m just sort of along for the ride? I don’t know what happened, really-”

She sends a bewildered glance his way. 

_ Eep!  _

“But I mean if you really want I can ask him! I just don’t think he’s going to change his mind! I don’t think he means any harm, though! I think he thinks you’re cool! But if you want me to try to get him to shut up I can try!” Her red eyes are piercing. “Actually, I should shut up! I’ll stop talking. Sorry for bothering you!”

It’s his turn to try to get ahead. He speedwalks around her. 

“...I’m the one who approached you? Why the hell are you apologizing?” 

“Sorry-!”

“...Oh my God.”

He doesn’t dare turn her way.

“Listen, listen- I’ll just be going now. No worries,” he reassures. 

And believe it or not, she chuckles. “I’m starting to get why you haven’t just told this dude to get lost,” she says. “You are scared of _ literally _ everything. I knew this class was for lunatics, but you’re something else entirely.”

He nervously chuckles along. “Y… Yeah. Scared of everything and a little more than that.” He tries to walk faster. He really doesn’t need to keep talking with this girl. She puts him on edge. “...But, I mean - That’s - Uh, not actually why I’m in this class. My parents know Nagisa-sensei. They go way back.”

“Ah,” she says. “Your parents made you deal with this, too?”

“Well - I mean, I  _ do _ wanna be here. I like it here, actually!” he says. “Nagisa-sensei, he’s…” He pauses. “He’s a very kind person.” He feels comfortable around Nagisa. More than he’d be around any other teacher. He’s known Nagisa his whole life! His parents would trust Nagisa with their lives. He can’t not stand up for him. “...A very good teacher, as well.”

“He’s okay,” Fumiko says. She’s sticking close. He’s not particularly inclined to make conversation in response, but the silence is deafeningly intimidating. 

“My parents - Ah - Actually taught him back in the day. My dad was his PE teacher. And my mom taught him English.” Alongside… Other things. “They wer-”

“Wait.  _ Seriously?” _ Fumiko interjects. She’s staring at him intently “Are your parents those government employees who live this way?”

“Those would be the ones.” 

A moment of quiet. “Wow. I… Didn’t expect that,” she says.

“Most people don’t,”  Kiyoshi says. It’s not like he exactly resembles his parents. Well - He does, at least, physically. He's been told he's a 'good mix of both,' with his blond hair, tired demeanor, and ‘an eye from each.’ But his personality tends to put people off. When they find out _ he's _ their son, they’re usually unimpressed at best. 

God! Don’t let her think about that! She’s judgemental enough as is! He tries to change the subject “What do your parents do for a living?”

And she stops in her fucking tracks.

_ “Hisakawa? Fumiko Hisakawa?” _ she says

Wait.  _ No way - _

“They’re managing directors for a massive corporation?  _ We live at the estate down the road?  _ Don’t tell me you seriously didn’t know-”

“A- Ah! No! I know! I know!” he sputters. He just hadn’t managed to piece it together. God! How stupid could he be!? He’d known she was stupidly rich. Of course she was one of  _ those  _ Hisakawas. “That’s-!” His voice has managed to jump about ten octaves up. “Super cool!” 

...She’s more thoroughly unimpressed than ever.

“Yeah. It’s something like that.”

He’s seen her house before. Estate is an  _ understatement.  _ They have three houses, and a wholeass _ lake _ , for Pete’s sake! This isn’t a girl who’s going to ask to ‘speak to his manager.’ This is a girl who’s going to sue him for all he’s worth if he even  _ looks _ at her wrong.

She must notice his unease. Namely because he’s suddenly walking stiffly as a board. “It’s not  _ that _ impressive,” she says, but the smug intonation in her voice seems to suggest otherwise. “...So your parents were involved in the little moon thing, right?”

‘The little moon thing’. She says it so nonchalantly. The world they live in was changed forever! The apocalypse just about happened! People died! Of _course_ the rich girl would call it the 'moon thing.'

“Yeah. They helped with the little moon thing.” ...It sounds equally as stupid when he says it.

“...That’s pretty neat,” she admits. “Got any anecdotes?”

“Well - They actually met over it. The government needed a ‘real’ assassin in that room, and they ended up with my mom. They must have bonded pretty quickly, because - Uh - I exist! Yeah!” God! How bad at this does he have to be!? Is he seriously implying he was procreated because the moon blew up!? He gives a nervous chuckle. “Really weird, thinking about that, actually. Parents had a meet-cute because of an octopus terrorist! Yayyyyy…” He gives apprehensive jazz hands. “Not that he was actually a terrorist-”

Fumiko snorts. “An assassin, huh. Now that’s what sounds weird to me.” She’s keeping up in pace. “...What was he like? K-” she pauses. “The monster.”

“He was impossible for them to get a hit on. Wikipedia isn’t exaggerating. It’s hard for me to even imagine, but my dad says Mach 20 made his head spin. He’d be there one second and in the next he was gone. He’d sooner be giving you a makeover than fleeing from you, though. And if you did manage to get a hit in on him, he could regrow it like it was nothing.”

“Not like  _ that, _ ” Fumiko retorts. “Everyone knows that. That’s textbook knowledge. What was he  _ like? _ ” 

“...Oh, I have no idea. I KINDA do, but I never met the guy, y’know?” A pause. “Obviously! He was - was before my time. But you probably know that. Don’t know why I said that-” he sputters. It’s hard to decide what to say. Of course he’s heard plenty of stories about Korosensei from his parents and the E-Class alike. But that’s nothing like getting to meet the larger-than-life man himself. “I… I guess he was loud and obnoxious and  _ weird.  _ He got on my parents’ nerves _ all  _ the time.” 

“Sounds about right.” 

“He wasn’t a bad person, though. They… Actually liked him a lot.” Even if they hadn’t admitted it at the time. He knows for a fact both of his parents have a deep respect for Korosensei. “I’ve been told he was kind… And nurturing… And confident.”

“And responsible for your birth?”

Kiyoshi just about chokes. “Yes! That too!”

Fumiko cracks the tiniest smile. 

“I - I - I think he had a big impact on just about everyone he met. I think that’s why a lot of people still think about him now. Because he’s more than just a piece of history. He’s a _ personality. _ ” 

Fumiko is quiet.

“...But that probably sounds kind of dumb, huh?” He asks.

“A little,” she admits.

“...And yet you still had enough interest to ask me about him,” he points out. “I’d say that backs up my point, at least a little.”

Fumiko blinks. “I… Suppose it does.

Kiyoshi can’t help but smile. He’s gotten a victory against her, however small.

“...That’s your place, right?” she asks, pointing a finger.

“Ah- It is.” He looks towards his house. He’d nearly walked straight past it. “...I guess I should get going, huh?”

“Yeah. Get out of this chill.” Quite frankly, it’s not even cold outside. Had she mistaken his quivering for shivering?

“...It was nice talking to you.”

Fumiko blinks, almost as if she hadn’t even realized this had turned into a conversation. “...You as well. I’ll see you around.”

And before he can respond, she’s on her way. He murmurs a quiet “Okay,” before turning towards his house.

...He sends one last glance her way. She doesn’t do the same.

Somehow she’s a lot less intimidating when he knows even she thinks about what happened to the moon.

* * *

It happens just about every year. This year, it happens to happen early.

He’s attempting to give Hachirou and Chiharu a hand with their science assignment when a loud voice cries out.

“Woah! What are you doing with  _ them? _ ” 

And there Makoto stands, hunched in front of his computer. Kiyoshi stands behind him, tugging desperately at his hand.

“You never told us you knew a bunch of celebrities, Nagisa!”

And in an instant that has the class’s attention. Students spring from their chairs and rush over to join him. Gossip explodes in an instant.

Nagisa sighs and gives Chiharu and Hachirou a glance. “Excuse me for a minute,” he says, standing up, and hurrying to the growing crowd.

He sees about what he expected.

The gaggle of students are staring agape at his desktop background. He can’t exactly blame them, considering it’s a photo of him and his spouses posing at the beach.

It’s a fond memory from two summers ago. Kayano has Nagisa pulled close and Karma’s snatched his favorite sun hat. Gakushuu’s grabbed ice cream for the four of them. You can already tell he’s getting a bad sunburn. Waves crash in the background. He can practically feel the joy radiating, even now.

“Is that  _ Mase Haruna?” _

_ “Gakushuu Asano!?” _

“Who’s the third guy!?”

“...He’s a politician!” 

_ “Akabane!?” _

Karma would be  _ peeved _ if he learned the kids sooner recognized his husband than him.

Every eye is on Nagisa. The volume in the room is growing louder and louder. Just about every student has rushed over to see what the commotion is about.

“Nice job photoshopping yourself in with your celebrity crushes, Shiota-sensei.”

“What are you doing with them?”

“Are you friends!?”

...Well, he supposes there’s no avoiding this one. All things considered, the four of them try to keep their relationship on the down low, but sooner or later his students tend to find out. Whether it be through desktop backgrounds or shady paparazzi magazines.

“Spouses, actually,” he says with a smile.

And in an instant, his students explode into chatter. He can hardly hear them, with them all trying to shout over each other.

“Oh, what a joke! There’s no way they’d date _ you. _ ”

As if he hadn’t been telling himself that from day one. Life sure had a way of surprising him. He still remembers his astonishment when Karma and Gakushuu had asked him to join their relationship in third year, and the whiplash he’d received when he’d learned Kayano had been crushing on him since middle school.

“Yes way,” he says, whipping out his phone. “I’ve got more pictures, if you don’t believe me.” 

“SHOW US.” The answer is practically unanimous. 

In theory, he hates to disturb class, but there’s enough of a commotion as is. He knows they’ll be more focused afterward if they get the answers they’re looking for. Plus, he could never pass up an opportunity to talk about his spouses.

“Okay, okay,” he relents, shuffling his way through to the front of the crowd. He leans down and starts to swipe through his photos.

Kayano ready for the first day of her new shoot. Gakushuu with his nose buried in a book and an adorably focused look on his face. Karma taking a selfie after snatching his phone and Kayano subsequently photobombing him. The time Gakushuu and Karma fell asleep on the couch together. And, of course, the picture Kayano had taken and sent him afterward of himself struggling to haul them off to bed.

The class has reached outright pandemonium by now. Rosey practically snatches his phone trying to get a better look. He yanks it away, but can’t help but laugh. He gets their bewilderment. If he learned his teacher had pictures of a multi-millionaire entrepreneur and controversial politician spooning on his couch, he’d be a little baffled, too.

“But- But  _ how!?” _ Kanon demands.

“We went to Junior High together,” he explains. Most everything in his life comes back to the moon incident. “So be on your toes. You never know! You could meet the love of your life or the next big name in this very classroom.” 

The volume in the room goes up tenfold.

“Like hell the next Asano goes here!” 

“Is it true Haruna’s working on a sequel to Stray God!?”

“Is Akabane as mean as he looks?”

_ “How’s the sex!?” _

Nagisa sputters. “Okay! Okay! One at a time. I’m...  going to refrain from answering that one-!” He’s just about being mobbed.  “Raise your hands. I’ll - I’ll call on you.” For a literal school, he doesn’t employ the simple tactics nearly enough.

Rikuto’s hand shoots up. “What are they really like!? In person?”

“Obnoxious at best, unbearable at worst,” Nagisa says. Gasps ensue. “I’m joking - I’m joking…” he reassures. “They’re wonderful people. And not nearly as intimidating as you’d expect them to be. I’ve had  _ multiple  _ pillow fights with them. They’re not nearly as cool as they’d want you to believe.” He gives a smug smile.

Kazuki waves his hand in the air “How’d  _ you  _ manage to pick up so many hotties, Shiota-sensei?”

“I wish I had an answer to that one,” Nagisa replies.

Minki jumps up and down. “What’s it like being _ loaded!? _ I never would have guessed you were a gold digger!”

“Okay- First of all, I’m not a gold digger-” Nagisa sputters, finger raised. “I love my spouses _ very  _ much.” So no, he’s not planning to assassinate them, regardless of what Karma would have had you believe back in middle school. “Second of all,  we try to live modestly. What doesn’t end up going into projects like this school, or purchases like… Those,” He motions to Korokohai “Finds its way to helping people in need. Everything you hear about Asano's company's charity work is true.”

He and his family had… Rough teen years, to say the least. They have ideals they hold close to their hearts. The least they can do is try to donate to organizations for abused children, disabled students, battered women, transgender youth, and prisoner’s rights. Because they like to think they can make an impact on the world.

“Awwwww…” Emiko murmurs.

“I think they should donate a water slide to the school,” Matsuya says

Nagia chuckles. “I’ll… See what we can do.”

Aina’s hand shoots up. “So does that mean Asano-san’s not really as scary as he looks?”

“I wouldn’t quite say  _ not scary,” _ Nagisa says. His husband’s resting bitch face doesn’t exactly give off the wrong idea.  _ However… _ “But I’ll have you know he has a soft spot. Just don’t let him know I said anything.” He raises his finger to his lips.

Sometimes he gets choked up thinking about how far Gakushuu’s come. In middle school he had legitimately terrified Nagisa. But getting to know him over the course of high school… Realizing their situations were more similar than they’d have liked to admit: They bonded. Quick. He’s come a long way in opening up. And even if he’s still perfectly capable of giving an intimidatingly pretentious cold-shoulder, he’s a lot kinder than he’d ever give himself credit for. He doesn’t always know what to say, but he always makes an effort to be there. Nagisa’s thankful for that.

A few students giggle. “Well now you’ve got to tell us embarrassing stories about him!” 

“No, no. Those are stories for another day.” Lord knows he has too many to share without derailing class entirely. 

“What about Haruna?” Ryoka asks, hand up. “You’ve got to tell us about her latest movie! Is she ever coming back to TV dramas?”

Sometimes he feels like he’s being mobbed by the paparazzi. What is he? A gossip magazine on the topic of his own wife? “Kaya- Ak- _ Blah- _ Mase’s movie is coming along great. She’s working hard on the sequel to Stray God. Afraid I can’t disclose any details, though.” He feels dumb as hell tripping up over her name, but what can he say? Kayano’s become a bit of a nickname over the years. For something that started as a blatant lie, it seems to bring Kayano a lot of happiness. It’s just stuck. Calling her Akari is alien enough. Having to use her stage name? It’s too much for his clumsy ass. “As for her TV dramas, she’s taking things day by day. We’ll just have to see what interests her, huh?”

“Tell her I think she’s a great actress!”

“And that she’s very pretty!”

“I like her legs.” Rika tacks on.

“Please don’t objectify my wife,” Nagisa says.

Terumi meekly raises a hand. “...Is that last guy mean? He seems mean.” She points knowingly at the photo of Karma stealing Nagisa’s hat.

“He’s a politician. Of course he’s mean,” Rin snarks.

“I’ll have you know Karma is a kindhearted, brave, and intelligent individual. He’s stayed by my side through most everything and has never once hesitated to stand up for me. He’s driven, skilled, and handsome. He is single-handedly the meanest person I know.”

Karma’s mellowed out a lot over the years. He knows which lines not to cross, and tries to use that egotistical heart of his for good. That said, it  _ did  _ take Nagisa twenty minutes to get that “atrocity of a hat” back, so Karma hasn’t exactly completely turned over a new leaf. The man runs on malice. By now it’s become more a part of his charm than anything else.

The students whisper and gossip. 

“Okay - Okay. Don’t tell him that, either,” he says. “I love Karma. So when he inevitably invites himself into this classroom, tell him that instead.”

_ “When he invites himself into this classroom!?” _

“I’m sure you’ll be seeing him around sooner or later.” Karma tries to make time to peek out of work early and bother Nagisa’s students at least a few times a year. He says it’s good for ‘getting to know his husband’s kids.’ For someone who holds himself to such high standards, he sure retains the attitude of a bored, ditching middle schooler. “So be on your best behavior.” If they’re not, it’s practically a guarantee Karma will take that bad behavior and up it to eleven.

“Will we get to meet the rest of them!?”

“Oh! Oh! I want Mase to sign my poster!”

“Please let us meet them, Shiota-sensei!”

“They seem so nice!”

That’s… One word for it.

“I’ll try my best,” Nagisa reassures. “But I think that’s enough talking about my spouses for one day. We need to get back to science.”

Rosey groans. “But you didn’t even tell us how you got together! And how you REALLY met. The details! Was it also at that cool assassin school? Are they cool assassins?”

“That’s a story for another day. Get back to your seats."

“Promise us you’ll tell us,” Rosey says, standing firm. “You can’t leave us curious! I’m on the edge of my seat!”

“Okay, okay…” Nagisa says with a reluctant smile. “I promise.”

That seems to sate her. She skips back to her chair. Kiyoshi awkwardly follows. Other students follow in suit, gossiping loudly with each other as they sit down.

“You gotta promise to tell us how the foursomes are, too!” Kazuki snickers, slinking back to his seat. His sister shoots him a glare.

“I am… Not doing that.” Nagisa says.

Makoto doesn’t return to his seat, even as his classmates get back to focusing on their projects. Nagisa gently reaches for his shoulder.

“You’ve got to get back to work, bu-”

“...Asano, huh?” he asks. 

“Excuse me?”

“He just didn’t strike me as your type.” His brow furrows in thought. Now that he thinks about it, Nagisa realizes Makoto had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout that entire conversation. 

He supposes a man like Gakushuu isn’t exactly who you’d expect to be married to a meek teacher like himself, but...

“And Karma Akabane, known sociopath, did?” 

Makoto blinks, then shrugs it off. “I guess you’re right,” he says, shaking his head. “Neat, though. You guys seem really happy.” He gives a smile, then quickly diverts. “Mind if I use your computer for a second? There was actually something I wanted to look into. That’s why I snuck on here in the first place.”

“Oh. So you  _ weren’t  _ just trying to cause trouble,” Nagisa quips.

“N-No!” Makoto sputters, shoulders raised. He genuinely seems a bit hurt. Nagisa can’t help but feel bad.

“Alright, alright,” he says. “Go wild. I trust you. Five minutes, though. After that, you’ve gotta get back to work.”

Makoto’s smile returns in an instant. He swivels the chair around and gets right to work. “Thank you, Nagisa!”

“No problem,” Nagisa says, turning back towards the class. He’ll leave Makoto be. The least he can do is try to trust him. And it’s not exactly like even if he is planning something atrocious it’s anything Nagisa can’t handle. What’s the worst he’s going to do? Look up porn?

_ Oh God. That’s actually a pretty terrifying thought. _ Nagisa bites his lip and parades across the room, praying not to hear anything alarming blare from the speakers.

He finds himself making his way over to where Fumiko sits. He’d noticed she’d been the only one not to invite herself over to his computer during the commotion. She’d simply sat, unamused, with her cheek resting on her palm.

He leans down.

“Sure you don’t want to see the pictures?” he asks. “There’s some real good ones on here.” He feels bad not engaging her. He can’t let her feel left out.

“Not particularly,” she says. “...I actually already knew.”

“Huh?” Nagisa says.

“About your spouses. It’s one of the reasons I considered this school prestigious.” She never once looks up from her work to meet his eyes.

“Well I’m glad you did your research,” Nagisa says. “Though a bit hurt you’re only here for my spouses. What about some respect for ol’ Shiota-sensei, huh?” he jokes.

She doesn’t grace him with a response.

Nagisa sighs. “Well, I’ll stop bothering you. Let me know if you need any help with your work,” he says, straightening up. 

“Mmmm...”

He can’t push her too far, either. He knows when he’s being more annoying than helpful. Baby steps, he supposes. 

He makes his way back over to Chiharu and Hachirou. He’d nearly forgotten he was giving them a hand until he noticed Chiharu looking over at him with pleading eyes. “Okay, okay. Sorry about that. Where were we?”

The classroom returns to the normal routine. In time, Makoto returns to his seat. And as Nagisa walks Chiharu and Hachirou through the basics of chemistry he tries not to worry about Fumiko and how stubbornly she keeps to herself.

* * *

Fumiko’s routine is a simple one.

She wakes every morning at 6:45. She slides out of bed and she gets dressed. She readies herself any further, then makes her way down the spiral staircase, and walks through the lounge into the dining room. 

Oftentimes, the others are there before her. This morning is no different. Her mother and father are seated at the end of the table, with her sisters seated across the side.

She sits down next to Tsuna and carefully pulls her chair in.

“Fumiko.” 

“Mother,” she greets.

Her father gives her a curt nod. They don’t exchange any further formalities. 

Quite frankly, she’s much happier without the show made of it. What purpose does it serve? They may not be a sentimental family, but they get by.

Breakfast is already made. Her plate has been waiting for her. She reaches for her meal and begins to pick through her salad.

She’s aware she needs to be on her way by 7:30. The walk to school is a long trek from her family’s estate. More often than not she prefers to head out earlier. It gives her leisure time when she arrives at the building. She keeps a close eye on the grandfather clock.

Milk, salad, toast, yogurt, eggs, and cantaloupe. It’s an underwhelming meal. She doesn’t voice that.

Mother’s fork clinks. Meiko coughs. Father shuffles ever so slightly. No-one speaks up.

...They don’t remember.

“School’s been well,” she says.

Father nods. “I’d hope so.”

“...I’m doing well in my History classes.”

He doesn’t respond.

“You should try to apply that same drive to your mathematics classes,” Mother chimes.

“I will,” she says.

“Sayuri aced her college applications. She’s going to be a scholar, you know.”  _ Oh, she knows. _ “If you ever need… _ Further  _ help, you know your sister is always an option.”

She hates the way she says it. She hates being looked down on. She doesn’t let it show. “Of course. I will keep that in mind.” 

Her parents stare at her.

“Forgetting something?”

Her shoulders lower. “...Thank you, Sayuri.”

Sayuri gives an apathetic shrug. She knows she won’t help her. She won’t even come to her. That’s okay. They don’t do family time.

“You know this is just about your last chance, Fumiko. You’ve exhausted our every last effort.” Father says.

She sighs. “...I know.”

“We just want what’s best for you. You’ll make us proud, won’t you?” Mother asks.

“Of course.”

“Good girl.”

She doesn’t make any further effort to speak. She’s not sure why she’d tried in the first place. It’s as she said: She much prefers the silence.

She halfway finishes her meal and stands. She leaves her plate on the table. “I should head out soon,” she says, walking across the room. “I don’t want to be late to class.”

Father nods. “Behave yourself.”

“I will,” she says. She’s done her very best to make them proud. Although her grades remain rather lackluster, she wishes to believe that an institute like Constellate will give her an edge.

“Remember not to participate in the ‘assassination,’” Mother reminds her.

“I’m aware.” She has no interest. Nor would she ever.

As deeply as the historical impact of the moon incident fascinates her, the concept of recreating it feels trite at best and insensitive at worst. Shiota-sensei will never truly capture what made that period of history so interesting. Nor would it ever have been a piece of history meant for someone of her standing to partake in in the first place.

While she must admit she’d be deeply interested in learning the further intricacies of what occurred at that very school, going about such violent affairs is no way to accomplish that. She doesn’t see why her teacher can’t simply crack open a textbook or share stories from his own experience.

How is it she’s already learned more from the Karasuma son than she has from her own teacher?

She slides on her coat and retrieves her bookbag, then pulls it on over her shoulders. 

7:10. She supposes it’s not a bad time to head out.

No goodbyes are exchanged as she makes her way out the door.

It’s a chilly day out. Although she’s been told she’s oversensitive in regards to those matters. So perhaps not objectively. 

She’s aware that she’d managed to irritate father. It’s nothing new. But she’s also well aware she’ll need to apologize when she arrives home. That’s what she gets for attempting to engage with him: Chewed out.

She typically avoids the effort. But she’d gotten her hopes up about today being different. That was her first mistake.

She readjusts her bookbag. Whatever. It’s not worth the effort. She  _ knows _ she’s the problem child, and she _ knows _ she’s needy, and she  _ knows  _ she’s at the prestigious screw-up school for the bragging rights of a turnaround story. This has never been about her sake. But she doesn’t have the luxury to complain. They don’t like her. And she doesn’t like them. She doesn’t _ need  _ them. She’s not sure why she’d tried.

She’s passing the Karasuma household now, but the boy is nowhere in sight. As much as she hates to admit it, she almost wishes he was. He’s far from an engaging person to be around, but the few conversations they’ve had have been okay. Plus, she knows he doesn’t have the guts to call her out for being ‘disrespectful.’ Not that she’d dare gossip about her parents to  _ him. _ She has a reputation to keep up. 

Doesn’t make it any less cathartic to imagine.

She arrives at the foot of the mountain in due time. She bites her lip as she stares up. She hates the dramatization of it all. It’s not meaningful to run the school up there, it’s just _ obnoxious.  _

...She knows that’s not true. She’s just angry. She knows why Shiota-sensei stays here, and she can even make a couple guesses as for why he runs the school by himself. It’s a piece of something important. Something fascinating. Something even she wants to know about. And of something broken. A cog in a machine that was smashed to bits fifteen years ago. And no matter what he does, he can never recreate what it once was.

...She and the school are alike, in that way. With such a heavy heirloom to carry.

Or maybe it’s just a school. And the mountain’s just a mountain. And she’s just a bitter girl overthinking things.

Either way, by the time she reaches the top her feet ache.

She enters the building. It’s a tiny, pathetic, thing. She’s sure he’s done his fair share of tidying up. A ‘labor of love.’ But that doesn’t make her impression of the place any less lukewarm. It would be more interesting left ramshackle. At least then it could be a relic of the Moon Incident. What it is now is a lifeless husk. She can’t even bring herself geek out about standing in the shadow of history. Because she knows why she’s here. And she doesn’t want to be.

She arrives at class and lays her head on the desk.

She hardly notices as the others begin to arrive. In fact, she’s half asleep when she hears the stomping of excited feet.

_ Shit.  _

This is the last thing she needs to deal with right now.

She’d almost managed to go an entire day without wasting a thought on Makoto Himura. Can’t he see she’s stressed enough as is right now!? The last thing she needs is some  _ weirdo  _ harassing her!

“Fumiko-”

She sits up, fists clenched. _“Can you just leave me alone alrea-”_

And that’s when she notices the slice of cake.

“...W… What’s that?”

He cautiously takes a step back. “I figured out it was your birthday. So I thought I’d do something for you-”

Her heart stops. 

He doesn’t seem to notice. He gingerly places the cake down on her desk, before beginning to dig through his stuff. “I know it’s nothing special, but I figured it was the least I could do for getting on your nerves.” He nervously smiles as he pulls something pink out of his bag. “I nabbed you this, too. I know it’s nothing like your usual fancy-schmancy taste, but I still hope you’ll like it.”

She shakily reaches for it and unfolds. A bright pink scarf: With a massive bow on the front.

“Me and Kiyoshi noticed you get cold easily! And I thought you could use a splash of color in your life.”

_ Oh. Yeah. Kiyoshi.  _ Her eyes drift his way. He’s anxiously looking on, fingers clasped. 

“...He told me about how you two became buddy-buddy! And he… Also told me about how you wanted me to stop bothering you. So after this, if you want me to leave you alone, I’ll buzz off. But I figured I’d at least make it up to you first.” 

Fumiko blinks back tears. Her parents hadn’t even remembered-

She runs her hand over the scarf. It’s soft. “How…?” she sputters “...How did you even know?”

“Well, I heard you bragging to Rika that you were almost thirteen, so you should be in charge! And I figured that ‘almost’ implied your birthday was soon. So I snuck onto Nagisa’s computer and got the exact date. Turns out it was a lot sooner than I thought!”

“...That’s a bit stalkerish.” Is all she can find in herself to say.

Makoto shrieks under his breath as he covers his face with his hands. “Is- Is that how you see it!? I just wanted to try being sweet and endearing!” He just about makes a 180° turn. “I-I’ll be going now! Goodbye forever!”

“Hey- Hey! No!” she snaps, reaching for his shoulder. “It… It actually means a lot.” As pathetic as he looks right now, she can’t help but be touched.

“It… Does?” he asks.

“...Yeah. It does,” she admits. She hadn’t expected anyone to go out of their way like that for her. Much less someone she’d treated like shit for the past month. Maybe she’d been too quick to judge him.

He whirls around and wraps her in a bear hug. 

“Ack!”

“I told you she’d love it!” 

_ Or not!  _ She can hardly breathe!

She struggles to get away, elbowing and hissing. He releases her, excitedly bouncing on his toes. “Try it! Try it!”

“The cake or the scarf?”

_ “Yes.” _

She picks up the fork and takes a bite of the cake. It’s a homemade, rudimentary thing. Made of ingredients so cheap she could likely pick up something better-made mass produced at the grocery store. But… It’s sweet.

Makoto eagerly watches on. “Do you like it!?”

She reaches for the scarf and fits it snugly around her neck. “It’s okay,” She says.

“Well, hey! ‘Okay’ is the best thing I’ve gotten you to say about anything I’ve done yet! I’ll be counting that one as a victory!” Makoto chuckles. 

Fumiko rolls her eyes. “...How did you even think of this?”

“Told you. I wanted to make it up to you.”

“But  _ birthday cake?” _

“Well, I for one, love sweet things. Nothing would better cheer me up or work as a bribe to make me stand someone than cake. I just crossed my fingers and hoped the same would apply to you!” Makoto grins and points. She freezes, mid-chew. “Looks like I was right on the money! You love it.”

“Now I wouldn’t go  _ that _ far-”

“And yet you’re eating the cake anyways,”

She stares down at the plate. “...Indeed I am.”

“Plus… I think… It’s just nice to have someone think about you like that. Someone going out of their way to say ‘I care’ on your birthday. It’s enough to make me weep!”

Well isn’t someone dramatic? Fumiko ignores the fact that she’s on the brink of tears herself. “...Yeah. I guess so.”

She falls silent. Even Makoto shuts up as she finishes up her cake.

“Sorry I couldn’t bring the whole thing. I got a hunch Nagisa would yell at me if I brought an entire cake in.”

“Like hell you care about how Shiota-sensei would react,” Fumiko quips.

“...Okay! Maybe not!  _ Maybe _ I just wanted to eat the rest of the cake myself. But is that _ really _ that blameworthy!? It looked so good!”

Fumiko blinks in disbelief. “You ate the entire cake?”

“Hey! Hey! Not the  _ entire _ cake!” Makoto argues.

“The entire cake minus a slice.”

“...M-Maybe so! And what about it!?” he nervously responds. Somehow he seems far more embarrassed by the most mundane nonsense in comparison to the actual bullshit he pulls every day.

Fumiko can’t help but chuckle.

“I’ll make you another one sometime--” he sputters. “I mean. If… If you don’t mind.”

“Eh?”

“If… You don’t mind that I keep getting on your nerves. I get it if I’ve been going too far, but I just think you’re  _ really  _ cool.”

“...I’ll think about it,” Fumiko says. “If you keep bribing me with cake.”

_ “Is that all you want from me!?” _ Makoto sputters.

What can she say? She’s an entrepreneur at heart. She smirks. “Is that not a deal you’re willing to make?”

Makoto huffs. “Only if you’re willing to let me keep eating half the cakes.”

“More like seven-eighths of the cakes.”

“Hey! Don’t spring all this math on me all of a sudden! I get overwhelmed! I’m no good at that stuff, you know!”

Kiyoshi finally perks up. “I can verify he’s not.”

Makoto squeaks. “Hey-! Don’t try to humiliate me in front of Fumiko! Not when we’re finally becoming friends!”

She nearly refutes it. But seeing Makoto lean back to elbow Kiyoshi, and that genuine grin spread on his face, she can only think about how drastically it contrasts the numb coldness of her father’s eyes.

...What else does she have to lose?

‘Friends’ can’t be too bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE WE GO, BABEY! Chapter 3! Ahaha. I never expected to get this far. But I’m really getting into a groove! I genuinely feel like I’m making good progress on this, and I’m proud of that.
> 
> Fucking finally we get a chapter delving into Fumiko a little. She’s a complicated character, and I’m glad to finally show some more sides to her, even if she still is a bit of a rudeass. (Fun fact! The average cantaloupe costs about thirty dollars in Japan. Fumiko turning her nose up at that breakfast is… Something, alright.) Ultimately though, she’s just a kid, and I hope I haven’t alienated ya’ll from her too much in the past.
> 
> And, of course, we’ve also gotten to see another odd thing or two about Makoto. When are we getting a chapter delving into HIM? Afraid I can’t answer that one. But all of his oddities are certainly leading up to the plot, so stay on the edge of your seat!
> 
> I’m really enjoying working on the friendship between the three of them. Because, yes, DUH, the three of them were going to become friends. What sort of trio would they make if they hated each other!? They all have a sort of neat dynamic to them. And I’m going out of my way to make sure they all interact. Because the way canon Assclass’s trio seemed to have a gap (In the fact that Karma and Kayano hardly interact despite being in the same friend group) drove me nuts. (Fun fact 2: The Kayano and Karma specifically thing is also something I’m going out of my way to avoid. They interact in this household. They’re pals, and I hope that’s shown, even if I haven’t gotten to have too many scenes with Nagisa’s spouses yet.)
> 
> On the topic of Nagisa’s spouses: Don’t worry. Nagisa will keep his promise, and so will I. I’ll explore how the four of them got together, and some insane stories from their youth. But you’re gonna have to sit and wait patiently, just like Rosey!
> 
> If you’re curious about why certain types of charity were brought up: They all have personal reasons for the characters. Some of them are self explanatory. Nagisa and Gakushuu have very strong feelings about child abuse, and all of the E-Class advocates for kids with learning disabilities considering their prior situation. Kayano’s always trying her best to stand up for women (And men! And everyone!) in abusive situations, considering the one Aguri was in. It’s something she feels very strongly about. Prisoner’s rights are because of the atrocities that happened to Korosensei as a death row criminal. And trans youth is because I headcanon Nagisa as trans! I’m now sure how/if it’ll ever come up in the fic, but the Nagisa I write is 100% a trans man. Good for him! (Fun fact 3 (I’m really treating you today): Kiyoshi is trans as well. Though once again I’m not sure if this will ever actually come up)
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were Emmanoodle’s cover of Fine, Great, I Love You Because’s I Don’t Want To Talk About Her, Jubyphonic’s cover of A Realistic Logical Ideologist, and Vienna Teng’s Stray Italian Greyhound. Give them a listen! You’ll see where they fit in. ;)
> 
> That’s all, folks! Hope you liked the chapter! Make sure to tell me what you think! Another chapter will be up before you even know it!


	4. Out On A Limb Time

More often than not, Kiyoshi wakes up to the family dog’s excited licks.

This morning, in a brilliant and unexpected development, he awakes to said dog’s furry ass in his face instead.

“Taro!” he yelps, coughing for air and gently pushing the fluffy white Samoyed off of him. For fuck’s sake! He’s gonna feel like he has fur in his lungs for the next three days.

Taro tilts his head, tongue lolling out. Oblivious to the emotional grief and subsequent respiratory issues he’s caused his debatably asthmatic owner, he nudges Kiyoshi’s hand with his snout.

Kiyoshi sighs and pats his side. He can’t stay mad for long. “Good morning to you, too.”

He glances at the clock. 7:12, huh? Yeah. It’s about time he should be getting up. He sits up and stretches.

Taro gets the gist. He hops off the bed and scratches at the door, then sends an expectant look Kiyoshi’s way.

“Not even going to let me brush my teeth, huh?” Kiyoshi asks, sliding out of bed. 

Taro stares blankly.

Kiyoshi’s gonna take that as a no.

He opens the door. Taro barrels out of the room. A shout and an exasperated ‘Shit! You’re up already!?’ echo down the halls.

Kiyoshi chuckles. Sometimes he wonders why Taro doesn’t just sleep with his parents. With a baby face and silky-soft fur, he’s easily top contender for ‘favorite son’. But Taro’s _ technically  _ his dog, regardless of what his dad would have you believe. And as such, the overgrown needy baby curls himself up at the foot of Kiyoshi’s bed each night.

...And shoves his fuzzy ass in his face each morning.

Kiyoshi slips into his clothes, quickly brushes his hair and teeth (his dog's will be damned), and tosses some food into his fish tank. Then, coughing one more time, just for good measure, he follows after Taro.

“Morning, Mom,” he says as he enters the living room.

“Your mutt’s all over my ass again,” Irina Karasuma, his truly one-of-a-kind mother, complains.

Taro’s firmly planted himself on Mom’s lap. From the coffee spilled on the couch, something tells Kiyoshi he’d invited himself there rather haphazardly.

“Yeah. I can see that,” Kiyoshi snarks.

Mom must notice him staring at the stain, because as she makes an effort to shove Taro off of her she pipes up. “Oh. Don’t worry about that. I’ll just make your dad deal with it when he gets home.” She grins.

Ah yes, Dad. Busy with work as always. He’s been practically MIA for the past two days. Not that Kiyoshi can complain much. Mom’s work is equally as hard. So he’s pretty lucky to even have one of them at home.

Something tells him Dad isn’t going to roll with Mom’s demands. No matter how hard she whines, begs, or demands, he’s going to firmly stand his ground, then tell her with a blank face, “You made the mess. You clean it up.”

And she will. She’ll moan and groan the whole way through, but something tells Kiyoshi she enjoys it when he pushes her around.

“Good luck with that one,” he says.

“What? You don’t believe me?” Mom dramatically huffs. “I’ll have you know for a fact I can make your father do anything I want!”

_ In bed, maybe. _

God! His parents are freaks!

“Okay, okay. Whatever you say, Mom.” He relents. “But if you’d like, I can clean it up before I go to scho-”

“Oh no, no. You don’t worry about this bullshit,” she interrupts. “If you really wanna be helpful, can you get the mongrel off of me?”

Kiyoshi whistles and pats the side of his leg. In an instant, Taro hops off of Mom’s lap and trots to his side. He seems relatively unbothered for having been called a ‘mongrel.’ Kiyoshi wishes he had the same thick skin. Or blissful obliviousness. Either works.

“I made breakfast, by the way,” Mom says. “Nothing fancy. But what do I look like? Your dad?” She kicks a leg up on the couch. “I’m no  _ housewife. _ ” At least not until she needs pity or a favor. Then she’s the softest most fragile maiden on the planet. It seems like a switch she can flip in an instant. No-one ever falls for it, but she certainly tries her damndest.

That said, he does smell toast.

"O-Oh! Thank you."

“It’s in the kitchen.”

He peeks his head in and grabs two slices of toast plus a plate. Taro follows close behind, gaze locked on the food.

“I’m no-”

He’s relenting before he can even finish his sentence. He tears a piece off of one his slices and slides it Taro’s way. He gobbles it up in an instant.

“Are you feeding him again?” Mom shouts in. “This is why he’s getting fat, you know!” 

Something tells him Taro isn’t particularly phased by his weight. 

“Can you grab me a coffee while you’re in there, by the way?” She adds on. “ _ Someone _ spilled mine.”

“Of course!” Kiyoshi replies, already pouring her a cup. He gives Taro his best attempt at a disappointed look. 

He re-enters the living room, hands Mom her coffee and sits down next to her. He usually prefers to eat in the kitchen, but she isn’t that sort of tidy. So he supposes he doesn’t mind laxing about just this once.

“Thanks,” she says as she grabs her drink. Taro starts to make the motions to join them, but a nasty glare on her part shuts that down. He settles on curling up near their feet.

“I spent  _ way _ too long lint rolling the couch yesterday to let you get your way, you  _ beast.” _

Kiyoshi doesn’t bother to tell her the moment Dad gets home Taro’s going to be on the couch again anyways. For someone with all the approachability of a brick wall, he sure does love that dog. 

“Beast. Is that what we’re calling him now?” he jokes.

“Would you prefer smug bastard?”

“I suppose I don’t have any strong preference, now that you mention it,” he relents, taking a bite of his toast.

...Admittedly, he doesn’t get to talk to his mom as often as he wishes he could. It’s nice to just be able to spend time with her. Even if she is making microaggressions against the dog.

“How’s school been?” she asks. “Are you still friends with that weird boy?”

“Yeah. Just yesterday he dared me to eat glue.”

“Did you eat the glue?”

“No, Mom. I didn’t eat the glue.” 

She almost seems disappointed. “Pussy.”

He rolls his eyes and leans on her. He’s a ‘pussy’ for many, many, reasons, but he wouldn’t exactly name that as the top one. He’d call that basic self-preservation.

“Have you made any other friends?” she asks. “Getting along well with your classmates? You know if anyone’s giving you issues I’ll get ‘em.”

“Please don’t ‘get ‘em,’” Kiyoshi says. 

“Not making any promises.”

Kiyoshi rolls his eyes. “I’ve been fine. Everyone’s nice. Well. For the most part. There’s this girl, Fumiko-”

Mom makes a slicing motion across her throat. He slaps her hand down with a giggle. “No! No! She didn’t do anything! I was actually about to say I think we’re finally starting to get along.”

He’d still call ‘friends’ a stretch. But they’ve found a peace. She seems to have opened up more ever since Makoto reached out to her. Kiyoshi and her have started walking together to and from school. She still doesn’t talk much but that’s okay. She’s a lot nicer than he’d first anticipated.

“So no putting a hit in on her?” Mom asks.

_ “No putting a hit in on her,” _ Kiyoshi retorts.

Taro whines and paws at the couch.

“I’m putting a hit in on you,” Mom growls.

Kiyoshi hurries to eat his toast faster. Something tells him if he doesn’t get a move on his fuzzy accomplice is going to finish his breakfast before he can.

“How’s Nagisa been?” Mom asks. “Still as crazy as ever?”

“He’s been well,” Kiyoshi says. “But, yes, he’s just as crazy.” He pauses. “And just as short.”

Irina snickers. “Now that’s not a surprise. He hasn’t gained an inch since middle school.”

“...It’s almost sad.” Not that Kiyoshi can talk, measuring in at 4’10. But he has an excuse, considering he’s  _ fucking thirteen, _ and desperately hopes his trash talk won’t jinx him and doom him to an eternity of step stools and asking someone else to grab things off the top shelf. 

“Have you got a hit in on him?”

“Will you stop it with the hitman thing?” Kiyoshi begs. Ex-assassin or not, her shtick is getting old. “No. I haven’t. If I’d ‘assassinated’ him, you and Dad would be the first ones to know.” He pauses. “Well- Other than my classmates! Of course they’d be the real first ones to know. Because they’d see it. But, like, other than that: You guys.”

Mom chuckles. “Well, I’ll be waiting on the edge of my seat. I know you can whoop his ass.”

“I am  _ not _ doing that.”

“Okay, okay,” Mom relents. “You can politely shoot him then immediately apologize.”

“Much better,” Kiyoshi says. “My grades have been pretty good, too. He really is a quality teacher.”

“He learned from the best,” Mom admits. “Me, of course. Not your Father and that octopus.”

And to think for a moment he’d almost believed she’d genuinely complimented another human being.

“Midterms are already in a few weeks,” Kiyoshi says. “I can’t believe it’s already been, like, a month. I’m really nervous.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” Mom reassures, ruffling his hair. “You’re a smart kid. And if you ever need someone to help you study your English-”

“...That would be great.” Admittedly English is easily one of his best subjects. But he’ll take any opportunity he can get to spend more time with her. “As long as you promise to not teach me more wacky sex terms. Something tells me those won’t be on the test.”

“Because Nagisa is a coward and a menace.”

“I’ll make sure to pass that onto him,” Kiyoshi snarks.

“Hey! Hey-! No!” Mom shouts. Oh. So  _ now _ she cares about her reputation. 

“No taking it back now.” He doesn’t tell her that he’d never actually say that. Even paraphrasing someone else, he’s pretty sure if he called his teacher a ‘coward and a menace’ to his face he’d just about piss himself.

She grumbles and growls, crossing her arms and staunchly averting her gaze.

“How’s work been?”

Mom shrugs, quickly letting up on the angry act. “Same boring shit as always. Just routine. I’m  _ bored out of my mind,” _ she admits. “When are they going to have me do some real work?” 

As bad as he feels, Kiyoshi has to admit he much prefers her doing ‘something monotonous.’ Both her and his father have been sent overseas for months on dangerous missions before. And without fail he always ends up fearing they won’t come home this time. 

...He doesn’t voice that. They’re heroes. They’re doing important work. He’s just a selfish coward. He can’t dare ruin that for them.

“I dunno. Hopefully soon,” He says. “They can’t keep you pent up at home for too long. Otherwise, you’re gonna start to get to Taro’s psyche,” he jokes.

Mom snorts. “Oh. So now that’s what the Japanese government’s latest initiative is? Protecting his fat ass?”

“Yes.” Kiyoshi nods.

“I’m quitting my job and becoming a stripper.” 

_ You know. How you talk to your son.  _

Kiyoshi rolls his eyes. “Ew.” He stands. “And on that note, I should get going before I have to hear any more details about your future stripperhood. Sorry! Not interested.”

Mom snickers. “Alright, alright,” She says. “Your bookbag’s in the kitchen.” 

He peeks his head in and grabs his stuff. Taro ever so diligently follows in suit. Mom stands and grabs him as he starts to follow Kiyoshi towards the door.

“Hey. No,” she says. Something tells Kiyoshi Nagisa wouldn’t particularly mind if he actually brought Taro into class, but it’s for the best he stays home. They can’t let his hubris go unchecked.

“Sorry, buddy. I’ll see you this afternoon,” he says, giving Taro a quick pat on the head. Then he turns and starts to make his way towards the door.

“Hey,” Mom interrupts. “You really gonna go without saying goodbye?”

Kiyoshi’s face flushes. “Of- Of course not!” he sputters, wheeling around. He rushes over and gives her a hug.

She wraps an arm around him and squeezes. “Have a good day, okay?” She gives him a kiss on the forehead and squeezes even tighter just for good measure. “Love you.”

Kiyoshi beams and leans into her embrace. Then, as much as it pains him, he pulls away and walks to the door. 

“...See you later, Mom.”

“Seeya,” she says, giving him a wide smile. “Have fun with your friends, okay?”

“I’ll try my best."

“Try not to overthink it!” she shouts as he closes the door behind him.

He can only hope she'll still be home when he returns.

He sends one last hesitant glance towards the window as he starts to begin his long trek to school. And he swears he can see her stroking the dog.

_...Heh. Softie.  _

He turns the corner and sees a familiar face.

“Hisakawa-san!”

He hopes he hasn’t kept her waiting too lo-

“About time you showed up. I was just about to ditch you,” Fumiko says with a curt wave. He doesn’t doubt it for a second.

“A-Ah! Sorry!” he sputters. “I got caught up with some stuff at home. My mom was home and the dog was bothering her and we had to catch up becau-” He cuts himself off. “Well, I guess you don’t want to hear about any of that!” he nervously chuckles. “Feel free to just go on without me next time. I’d hate to be a bother-”

Fumiko gives him a blank look. “I was joking.”

_ Eep! _

Well how was he supposed to parse that!? She’d said it so seriously!

“Come on,” she says, starting to walk. She doesn’t notice that it takes him a good ten seconds to collect himself and scurry after her. 

An intimidating girl indeed. In the strangest way, he likes that about her. He can’t exactly get tangled up in worries about what she surely must think of him when she’s willing to voice her distaste aloud. She doesn’t make an effort to hide her feelings. He knows exactly what she thinks of him. And while it's not exactly flattering, it's far from as bad as it could be.

“Nice day, huh?” he asks.

“Eh,” she responds.

She’s not wearing her scarf this morning. Or any morning, for that matter. She’s made a distinct habit of leaving it at the school and putting it on as she arrives. He can’t help but wonder if she’s embarrassed to wear it home. Nonetheless, Makoto’s been thrilled she’s taken to the gift at all. 

And scarf or not, boy oh boy is she layered up. He must admit the sight of a girl wearing a designer coat in early May is a sight to see. Not that she’d be pleased to hear of the humor he finds in that situation. So he keeps his damn mouth shut. 

In fact, he doesn’t mind the silence, seeing as how she’d bothered to wait for him at all.

They arrive at the school in due time. And one trek up the mountain later and their aching feet have brought them to their destination. They peek their heads inside to a mostly empty classroom.

Haruhi sits in the back steepling her fingers. Riko and Chiharu quietly gossip. And Nagisa’s intently focused on his notes. He doesn’t even seem to notice them enter the classroom.

Kiyoshi gives him a wave with a quiet “Hi, Shiota-sensei,” and he looks up in surprise.

“Oh! Hello!” he responds. “Good morning, you two.”

Fumiko returns a quick “Morning,” and heads to her desk. She never once looks his way.

...But hey! She’s trying! So an A for effort!? 

Kiyoshi takes his seat diagonal of her. He carefully unpacks his bag as she reaches into her desk and retrieves her scarf. She secures it snugly around her neck.

Rika glances over from her desk. “Looking cute, Hisakawa-chan!” she says with a smile.

“...Ah- Thank you,” Fumiko responds.

It feels like just a week ago she’d have told her to “Fuck off,” albeit in a more proper and distinctly less crude gazillionaire-people-way. Slowly but surely she’s finding a place among her classmates, however small that may be. It makes him feel proud. He hadn’t exactly done the hard part of the work, but it still feels pretty nice to know they’ve managed to weasel their way into her shriveled up heart.

She’s still not having any hand in ‘assassination.’ He can’t exactly blame her. It’s an intimidating endeavor. But it’s still sort of sad to see her sitting alone on the sidelines.

With time, the rest of the class slowly pours in. Terumi and her posse meet with Haruhi, and the Hisoka twins seem to be bickering as they walk in through the door. Komoshi falls asleep at his desk the moment he arrives, and Minki ever so cautiously pokes him with a ‘cool stick’ she’d found outside.

Kiyoshi sends a glance Fumiko’s way. Whether they’d admit it or not, they’re anticipating a sunshiney face.

Makoto bursts down the door at 8:20. Considering role call is at 8:30, and he’s managed to show up past ten before, it’s not too shabby.

“Morning, Nagisa!” he greets, moseying over to his desk and subsequently slapping a paper down. “I finished my short story!” he says. “Sorry ‘bout the wait.”

“It’s fine,” Nagisa replies with a smile. “And good morning to you as well.”

Makoto beams before skipping over to his own desk. And Nagisa gets right to work on grading. Kiyoshi must admit he can’t help but feel a little bad for him. He’s seen Makoto’s grammar, and it’s atrocious. He has a _ long  _ read ahead of him.

Makoto pays no mind as he slides into his chair. “Morning Kiyoshi! Morning Fumiko!”

Fumiko gives a tired smile as Makoto leans forward to greet Matsuya. 

As wholly exhausting as he is to be around, Kiyoshi can’t help but smile as well. Makoto manages to perk every head the moment he enters the room.

“I am so tuckered out,” Makoto rambles. “I didn’t sleep, like, at all, last night. And don’t tell Nagisa, but I totally forgot and crammed my assignment last minute.”

He’d already been given an extension! How ballsy can he be!?

“Probably still better than mine,” Kiyoshi admits. “It turned out so bad.” They’d been told to write a short story or anecdote with a twist ending. Pretty fun in concept, but less so when your ideas all dry up. His lack of retention of basic grammar concepts aside, at least Makoto has creativity going for him. But Kiyoshi? Kiyoshi’s life  _ just isn’t interesting.  _

Makoto roughly pats his shoulder. “Aw! Don’t say that!”

Well.  _ Wasn’t _ interesting.

Makoto turns to Fumiko. “What did you write about, Fumiko?”

“Eh. Nothing interesting,” she responds with an apathetic shrug. “I can’t stand Literature.”

“Eh. I’m sure you did great,” Makoto says. “You know all sorts of big words! Like ‘Literature!’”

Fumiko shoots him a look. “Are you an imbecile?”

“Or ‘imbecile!’!”

Fumiko lets out an exhausted sigh. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Makoto grins. “I think Nagisa will like my story, too! I think I thought of a really funny twist!”

Kiyoshi’s not exactly sure he trusts Makoto’s idea of funny, but he’ll have to go out on a limb here. 

That’s when Nagisa drops the paper.

Kiyoshi’s the only one who seems to notice. How he scrambles to grab it as it drifts down through the air. He clutches it tight, hand shaking ever so slightly. There’s this wide, frazzled look in his eyes. Almost like he’s seen a ghost.

‘Funny,’ huh?

...What the hell could Makoto have possibly written!?

* * *

Nagisa finds himself flipping through Korosensei’s advice book the moment he gets home.

He keeps it and the yearbook in his bedside drawer. More often than not he pulls them out when he’s not feeling quite sure about himself.

But this… This is different. What Makoto had written…  _ It’s- _

He turns the pages as fast as he can.

He knows he’s not going to find what he’s looking for. He’s managed to read the thing cover to cover half a dozen times. There’s all sorts of surprises in it, including teaching tips he’d  _ never  _ thought he’d need. But to hold out hope for what he wants to see hidden in some secret nook or cranny he’d missed? It’s inane.

An ‘I’m still here.’

He’s thought many times about where Korosensei went after he died. He’s never been a particularly religious man. He’s always liked to think he lived on in that building. That him and Aguri not only resided there, but were cheering him on every day. 

How is it that a single boy can put an end to such a nice thought?

He skims through the pages. High school tips and tricks. A recipe for a meal he’d thought Nagisa would enjoy. Advice for dealing with particularly unruly students and his prediction for what would happen in the next Sonic Ninja movie. Doodles of his face and witty proverbs. Long winded stories. Encouragement throughout the whole thing. He’d even left advice for if Nagisa changed his mind and decided to pursue assassination after all.

He’s had a word to throw in on just about everything. It had seemed like there was nothing he hadn’t thought through.

But it turns out he hadn’t written any advice on what to do when a student reminds Nagisa of him. Eerily so. No ‘here’s what to do when I return in the flesh,’ or even a ‘knock that off, Nagisa! You’re far too smart to entertain that thought.’

...Nothing.

Nagisa’s completely in the dark.

He sighs and closes the book. He puts it in its rightful place back beside the yearbook and closes the drawer. 

He knows he should be working on his lesson plans. But he just can’t get it out of his mind. He heads into the study and boots up the computer.

It’s a high-end thing. It’s on in no time at all. He opens Google and stares blankly at the search bar.

_...What do you even ask? _

‘Korosensei.’

He doesn’t know why he types it. It’s nothing he doesn’t already know. Pictures of that wide grin and essay-long think pieces over whether or not the only adult he’d ever loved deserved to be murdered in cold blood.

‘The Reaper.’

Now that’s just clipart of skeletons in hoods and screencaps of a Death Note character.

‘The Reaper Assassin.’

He clicks on the Wikipedia article. It’s a bare-bones thing. Not even a picture.

“The Reaper is the pseudonym of an alleged serial killer who’s said to have operated across the world from the late 90s to the mid-2010s. The killer's identity remains unknown, as does the validity of the claims of his existence. It is unknown whether The Reaper was a single killer, multiple affiliated killers, or several unrelated…’

He loses interest about there. He’d almost forgotten what he’d learned to call ‘assassination’ in his youth was perceived as ‘serial murder’ by the world at large.

He knows he’s not going to learn anything more about Korosensei than he already knows. He was an elusive man. And he’d already learned the most he could from the source himself. Quite frankly, he doesn’t  _ need _ information. He just can’t get him off his mind.

He hesitates. He knows what he really wants to Google. But he just feels foolish.

…

‘Reincarnation.’

Now that just yields definitions. That’s not what he needs!

‘Is reincarnation real?’

He’s not sure why he’d expected an answer. Of course not. At least not in a way anyone can prove. At best, he’s finding religious accounts. At worst, he’s finding crackpot conspiracy theories.

‘Student reminds me of dead teacher.’

Now that’s just gibberish. There’s nothing to it, Nagisa! Stop overthinking it! It’s just… It’s just…-

‘Am I losing my goddamn mind?’

He sighs and slumps down on the desk. 

“...You okay?” A familiar voice pipes up. A face peeks out from behind his browser window.

...Ritsu.

He’d almost forgotten about her entirely. She has a habit of keeping tabs on their digital footprint. As big-brother-esque as it may seem, he knows it’s just her way of trying to connect. She lives a drastically different life from them, after all.

“Absolutely not.”

Her brow furrows in concern. “Do you wanna talk?”

...Not particularly. He knows he’s just following a madman’s trail. But he hardly even has the guts to voice _ that. _ He gives a defeated shrug.

She minimizes his tab and perches on his taskbar. She kicks her feet back and forth. “...Thinking about Korosensei?”

“What made that much obvious?” he snarks.

He knows she misses him too. They all do. It’s been years. But he’d changed their lives so profoundly. Even as they’ve moved on, he’s sure their thoughts wander back to him more often than they’d like to admit.

How could they not? He hadn’t died a natural death. He’d been taken from them.

...And Nagisa had been forced to do it. He knows it’s what Korosensei wanted. And he thinks he’d have regretted it for the rest of his life if he hadn’t done it himself. But once every so often it haunts him when he stares at his hands.

At the very least it had answered the burning question in his heart: He just wasn’t cut out for killing.

Ritsu blinks. “I guess that was sort of a silly question,” she says. “You’re thinking about something a little more complicated.”

Nagisa sighs. “Yeah. I know. It’s stupid. But is it really so bad t-”

Ritsu cuts him off. “...It’s not stupid.”

“People don’t come back from the dead, Ritsu.”

“For one, reincarnation isn’t ‘someone coming back from the dead.’ You should know that, silly,” Ritsu says. “For two, AI don’t tend to have self-awareness, either. Korosensei always had a way of doing what he wanted.” 

It had certainly seemed that way. At least, finally, until he couldn’t save himself. Sometimes Nagisa still wonders if he hadn’t wanted to be saved.

“...So you believe me?” Nagisa asks.

“Well, I don’t believe you. But I don’t _ not  _ believe you, either,” Ritsu says with a smile. She rests her head on her hands. “Why don’t you let me in on what’s going on? I’ve been meaning to hear about your class, anyways.”

Nagisa hesitates. “Well… There’s this boy: Makoto. And he… He… He reminds me of him in every way, Ritsu,” he rambles. It spills out. “I don’t even know what it IS. I mean, he’s petty, and he’s kind, and he’s funny. But it has to be something more than that.”

Ritsu curiously tilts her head.

“It’s something about his smile. I can’t even describe it-” That wide, unfaltering grin. Of course, it’s not exactly the same. If a normal ass human person tried to replicate that, he’s pretty sure they’d sprain something. But… But… “It has this energy. The way he looks at me. The things he says. The things he does. I just can’t shake it. And I know that’s insane. But every day it gets more and more uncanny.”

“The things he does?” Ritsu asks.

“Well, like… Remember what I told you guys happened day one?”

“The bombing, right?”

He’d ended up excitedly telling the entire group chat the story the moment they’d gotten the ‘Hey Nagisa’ thing worked out. Now that had earned a round of applause.

“That was him?” Ritsu asks.

“Mmm,” Nagisa responds. “And then, just today… He... “ he pauses. “We had a creative writing assignment, right? You’ll never guess what his story ended with.”

“I probably can. But try me.”

“It was tentacles all along.”

“...Excuse me?” Ritsu sputters. Turns out she couldn’t guess it, huh?

Nagisa blinks. “Oh. You weren’t around for that, were you?”

Ritsu quickly shakes her head. “N… No?”

“It was a writing assignment Korosensei gave us before you showed up. It had to end in ‘It was tentacles all along.’ Understandably we poked a ton of fun at him. Because no story could have possibly made sense with _ that _ as the plot twist. Turns out it was a lot more realistic of a development than we’d have thought.” Considering ‘tentacles’ just about explained everything that had happened over that insane year.

“I bet that gave Kayano a heart attack, huh?”

“Oh, totally,” Nagisa says. “She kept a straight face, but I’m sure she must have been terrified for a second there.” Even with the limelight masterfully angled away from her, she still must have had at least a little paranoia she’d been caught red-handed.

Turns out Korosensei was encouraging them to write a piece of his life story. 

“That  _ is  _ a pretty weird phrase.” Ritsu agrees. “And I’m gonna guess this isn’t something the public would know about?”

“No way,” Nagisa replies. “I’d forgotten about it entirely until now.”

“Let me double check,” Ritsu says, hopping off of her makeshift seat. She re-opens Google and types into the search bar.

‘It was tentacles all along.’

As expected, nothing. Results involving combinations and mishmashes of the words, but not what they’re looking for.

“You’re right. Nothing.” She says. 

“Exactly. I know it sounds insane, Ritsu. But  _ how else?  _ It’s him. It has to be. It  _ has _ to be-”

Ritsu turns back his way and cocks an eyebrow. “You feel really strongly about this, huh?”

“...Yeah. Admittedly.” Nagisa fiddles awkwardly with his tie. How could he not? It’s hard not to overthink…

Ritsu takes a seat on the search bar. “Have you told your spouses?”

Nagisa hesitates. “No…” he admits. “How can I just spring that on them? They won’t believe me. Karma would never let it go. He’ll give me shit for the rest of my life if I breathe a word of this.”

“That’s not true..” Ritsu says. “They love you. I’m sure they’d try their best to understand.”

“And what if I’m wrong? This is a huge jump to be making. I can’t get their hopes up.”

“You’ve already gotten your own hopes up pretty high.”

Nagisa frowns. “...I wish there was a way to just  _ know. _ Is there anything you can do? I mean, you have the entire internet at your fingertips.”

Ritsu sighs and shakes her head. “Even I don’t have an answer to this one, Nagisa. But I think you should follow your heart.”

“And for what? It’s not like I can even say anything to Makoto-”

“Of course not. But a good place to start would be saying something to your loved ones. I think they’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll… Try,” Nagisa replies.

“And keep working hard to give Makoto a good future.”

“Of course.” Nagisa nods. “It’s… It’s what I’d do regardless. What I’d do for all of my students. They’re my world.”

Ritsu smiles. “I thought so. But I just thought I’d make sure.”

“...Thank you for checking up on me, Ritsu," Nagisa says.

“It’s nothing!” she cheerily replies. “It’s the least I can do for my beloved classmate. Keep me updated, okay?”

“I’ll make sure to."

“Good. And never call yourself crazy again.” She pouts. “Because I’ll break right into your desktop as many times as it takes to remind you you’re not.”

“Thanks, Ritsu. That… Means a lot.”

“I told you. It’s nothing.” She glances to the side. “But I should probably get going. There’s actually a Hatsune Miku stream I’ve been wanting to attend?”

Nagisa chuckles. “Yeah. I won’t hold you up any longer. See you around, Ritsu.”

“Seeya! Keep what I said in mind, okay? And? Protip? In the future try to use incognito when you’re looking up stuff you’d be embarrassed for me to see.” And before he can even reply, she’s gone. She truly is an enigma.

Nagisa shuts down the computer and stands. She’s given him a lot to think about.

* * *

Nagisa can’t sleep.

He listens to Gakushuu softly snore and turns over once, then twice. More than anything he just wants to pull his pillow over his head and scream.

...He doesn’t do that.

He’d managed to drift off for a little while earlier, but it hadn’t lasted. His thoughts had been too disjointed. They’re swimming around in his head and it feels like he’s drowning. He’s been called an overthinker before, but this is different. It’s too  _ important. _ He needs to do something. He needs to say something.

But he can’t. He _ can’t. _ None of this makes sense. If he breathes a word of it he’ll never hear the end of it. This isn’t your run of the mill conspiracy. It’s about someone so deeply important to them. There’s such a weight behind even the mere mention of Korosensei. He can’t just throw that name around. Not after everything he did for them.

Korosensei would be disappointed in him. He’d stare down at him and shake his head.  _ “I’m gone. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” _

...Makoto’s unsettling smile is burned into his mind.

No. Not disappointed. Don’t think that way. Korosensei would never. He’d squint and bring his tentacle to his chin.  _ “Now is that truly what you think, Nagisa?” _ He’d chuckle and grin the way he always did. _ “Then don’t drop it. I didn’t teach you to give up, now did I? Even if you don’t find the answer you’re looking for, there’s no harm in asking questions.” _

Nagisa turns over.

It’s not that easy! He has more important things to be focusing on! The last thing he needs to do right now is go on a mad goose chase! The school year’s just begun. He can’t afford to lose sleep over the impossible belief that Korosensei’s somehow returned from the dead. That. Doesn’t. Happen.

“AI don’t have self-awareness,” Ritsu had chided. 

...And octopi don’t fly.

What if he’s right? What if, against all odds, it really is him? Could he live with himself if he let that go by right under his nose? Is it wrong to not say something to the others? Karma? Kayano? The E-Class?  _ Makoto himself? _

Ritsu had encouraged just opening up to his spouses. But it’s more complicated than that. It’s stressing him out enough as is. They… Don’t need that in their lives too. Or even worse, what if they don’t believe him? What if they stare him down and see him losing his mind? Throwing around the name of the one adult they’d ever loved so casually? It’s disrespectful!

Quite frankly, it’s none of Gakushuu’s business. It’d only bring Kayano more grief than it’s worth. And Karma would never let it go. The last thing he needs to do is turn himself into a fat joke in the eyes of the people he loves.

...He knows they’d be upset if they learned he was carrying this alone. They don’t do secrets. He shouldn’t be scared of them. They’ve done nothing but love and support him. Why can’t he bring himself to trust them?

...Probably because he can’t trust himself.

He rolls over.

And of course he can’t say anything to _ Makoto. _ He has enough on his plate as is. The last thing he needs is an adult in his life getting him wrapped up in utter nonsense. If Korosensei had taught him anything, it’s that it’s best to let people come to their own conclusions. And support them when they do. People don’t need someone to tell them how to live their life. They need a supportive shoulder to lean on.

...At least, that’s the ideal.

“Just keep working hard to give Makoto a good future,” Ritsu had said. Nagisa wishes it was that easy. It’s what he wants for all of his students. And he tries! He works his ass off! But what if that’s not enough? He’s not like Korosensei. What if he can’t help them? What if he can’t help  _ him? _ He could very well be failing the one person who’d gone above and beyond for him!  _ What if he’s not good enough!? _

He realizes he’s yanked the blanket off his spouses in his tossing and turning.

…

He stands up. He needs to get his mind off things. Because he’s never going to sleep at this rate. He tosses the blanket back onto the bed and makes his way downstairs. He reaches the kitchen, paces in circles, and crashes straight into Kayano.

She yelps.

“S-Sorry!” Nagisa sputters. “Didn’t realize you were up--”

“Yeah. I was just grabbing a glass of water.” She squints. “Why are you up? You’re not looking too hot.” 

Always a lovely thing to hear from your wife!

“Was just… Thinking," Nagisa replies.

“That’s real specific.” Kayano pauses. “You… Haven’t gotten much sleep, have you?”

“No,” Nagisa admits.

“Yeah. I figured. You’ve been tossing and turning all night.” Nagisa feels his face flush red. Shit. Had she noticed? He hopes he hadn’t been keeping his spouses up. “...Is something wrong? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

“It’s just something that happened at school.”

“...Wanna talk about it?”

_ Hardly. _ “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Oh, geez,” Kayano snarks. “Thanks for all the credit. Hit me.”

Nagisa sighs. “...You’re not going to let me drop this, are you?”

Kayano blinks. “Nagisa, if you really don’t want to talk, I won’t pester you about it. But you’re my husband. I know when something’s wrong. I’m happy to help where I can.”

“It… It’ll be a long conversation.”

Kayano pulls aside a chair at the kitchen table. “I have time.”

Nagisa hesitantly takes a seat opposite of her. He clasps his hands and stares downwards. He desperately tries to steel himself. She’s right. He needs to share it. Otherwise he’ll never clear his mind. He takes a deep breath.

Kayano notices his discomfort. “You don’t have to if you don’t want t-”

But he beats her to it. There’s no turning back now!

_ “Kayano, can I say something crazy?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four! Chapter four! Chapter four!
> 
> Nagisa’s really off his shits, huh? ...Or is he? WE know the answer to that question. He, however, does not. Poor Nagisa. I had a lot of fun playing around with his internal dilemma, as cruel as that sounds. What can I say? “Dead mentor back from the grave” is… Not exactly commonplace. Sorry, Nagisa. You're going out on a bit of a limb here. You've GOTTA doubt yourself at first.
> 
> I’m happy to finally introduce some of the normality in the Karasuma family life. AND to introduce a 36 year old Irina. Peak MILF material… She’s super fun to write. PROBABLY not a great mom, but she tries her best. I love her, and I love her dynamic with Kiyoshi. (And don’t worry. Known brick shithouse Karasuma WILL be appearing sooner rather than later. It’s not a family without him.) 
> 
> Taro was also super fun to write. And you can thank my friend Sho for his existence entirely! That’s right, I’m CALLING YOU OUT, SHO. But in like! A good way! >:3c. When he first read Assclass, he instantly came to me with “Karasuma needs a dog. Karasuma DESERVES a dog.” And like any good friend, I gave Karasuma (And his family) the fucking dog. I’ve regretted nothing since. Taro is Kiyoshi’s emotional support dumbass.
> 
> (Fun fact! Taro can mean “Large son.” There is LITERALLY nothing funnier to me than a dog being named that.)
> 
> I’m a bit sorry for all the Kiyoshi perspective. Somehow it feels like all the kid based scenes are skewed his way. That said, only a BIT sorry. Because he’s easily the most normal of the bunch, and we need a semi-average narrator to ground us. No worries, however! As our first Makoto scene is coming next chapter. Are you excited to finally get a look into the head of the enigma?
> 
> Needless to say I had fun writing Ritsu, too. Not to be a Kagepro fan on main, but the way I had her interact with Nagisa’s desktop was totally inspired by the way Ene from Kagerou Project interacts with Shintaro’s computer. Ritsu’s a super interesting character to me, and I’d love to do more with her than just give her a minor role in this fic sometime in the future. For now, though, I just hope she has fun on her date with Hatsune Miku or whatever.
> 
> Sorry to leave ya’ll on a bit of a cliffhanger. But it seems like Nagisa is finally gonna spill some beans? We’ll just have to see how that goes, huh?
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were Simple Plan’s I’m Just A Kid, Passion Pit’s Carried Away, Bastille’s Lethargy (You’re gonna notice this one come up a LOT.), Owl City’s Alligator Sky, Owl City’s Angels, and Fun’s Some Nights.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought! And see you with the next chapter soon! o7


	5. Story Time

_ “Kayano, can I say something crazy?”  _ Nagisa blurts it out without thinking.

Kayano’s brows furrow in concern. She scoots in closer, very quiet. “...Of course?”

“O… Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “You’re going to think I’m losing it, but I swear I can explain. So please, just let m-”

_ “Nagisa-” _

She reaches out for his hand and clasps it tight. “Don’t worry about that. I’d never. So just talk to me.” She squeezes his palm and tenderly rubs the back of his hand. “...What’s bothering you?”

He’s half tempted to close his eyes to avoid seeing her reaction. But he knows there’s no avoiding these sorts of things. So instead he makes hesitant eye contact and forces it out.

“I think Korosensei’s back.”

Kayano’s hand stiffens. The immediate look on her face is indecipherable. Nagisa can’t help but freeze up as well.

_ “Just let me explain-” _

“Okay,” she says softly. He hates the pity in her eyes.

He  _ knows _ why she’s worried! He’d feel the same for her in an instant! He’s worried for himself! But she has to believe him. She  _ has _ to.

“There’s… This boy in my class: Makoto.”

Kayano’s eyes flicker with recognition. “The one who blew you up?”

Nagisa nods. “Yeah. That’s the one,” he replies. “I… There was something about it, Kayano. Everything about the situation. It felt like I was playing it out scene by scene. The moment he touched me, I knew I’d messed up. I sensed this… This Something.”

Bloodlust?

He shakes that thought off.

“And ‘kaboom.’ He grinned at me like he’d thought of the cleverest trick in the world.”

Kayano’s quiet. She seems deep in thought. “...And I have to admit that’s odd. But you can’t just jump to conclusions, Nagisa.”

“I know-” he says. “I… Didn’t. If anything, he’d just reminded me of Korosensei. Someone who would have gotten along with him. But today something happened, Kayano. And I… I…” he drifts off.

“You?” she asks.

He struggles to put it into words. Finally, he stands.  

“Just let me grab it.”

He stands and retreats into the living room. He grabs his binder. Returning to the kitchen, he places it down on the table with a hefty ‘thump.’ He pulls Makoto’s paper out and slides it Kayano’s way.

She’s already begun reading it as he starts to explain. “I had them doing a creative writing assignment for Literature. The only guidelines I gave them were that it had to end with a plot twist. I expected pretty typical stuff. ‘The whole thing was actually a dream.’ Or ‘And then they all died: The end.’ They’re middle schoolers. I wasn’t exactly looking for Shakespeare. But Makoto took me by surprise.”

Kayano flips the paper over. And as she finishes reading, her eyes rise to meet Nagisa’s.

She doesn’t say a word.

“There’s _ no _ way he could have known about that,” Nagisa says. “I had Ritsu search the entire internet. There isn’t a trace of ‘It was tentacles all along.’ That was  _ our _ moment. Everything that happened in that classroom- The world would have never wanted to hear about it. They wanted a monster. And so we never would have wanted to share. That belonged to _ us.  _ It wasn’t another thing for them to twist!” 

Kayano nods. She still doesn’t speak.

“And I know it’s crazy. I know it’s nuts. But… But… Please tell me I’m not losing my mind.”

She hears the tremble in his voice. She squeezes his hand. “...Weirder stuff has happened to us,” she admits. “But, I mean… How can you  _ know?” _

“I can’t. But how else can you explain it?”

...She doesn’t have an answer.

“I’ve… Admittedly never really thought about this stuff before,” he says. Of course, he and Gakushuu have had late night discussions on the moral and ethical relevance of all sorts of religious concepts- But those were always in the context of theory rather than actual belief. They were the mere set up for a brain twister that sparked intellectual debate.

...And the set up for later being half choked out by Karma and Kayano, who just wanted to sleep and not listen to their thirtieth conversation on whether or not death qualified as an abstract concept.

“...But… It has to mean something, doesn’t it?”

Kayano shrugs. “I’d like to think so, but it’s not that easy…”

“You have to admit it’s a nice thought at the very least, isn’t it?”

Kayano’s very quiet. 

“...I guess,” she finally says.

“Korosensei’s… Korosensei’s life was very unfair.” Sometimes he reflects on the fact that at thirty, it’s entirely possible he’s outlived Korosensei. He never knew exactly how old Korosensei was, but the thought of being older than his mentor makes his heart ache. He’d died young. He really had. “So, _ so _ much happened to him.” He’d never had a home! A family! And when he finally found a place where he was happy, the world just couldn’t let him keep it. “He deserved better.”

Kayano doesn’t respond.

“He loved us. More than anything.” He’s reflected on it a lot. Korosensei had given up everything for them. And there had never once been a moment of hesitation. They were his world. His light! And… He was theirs. “What if… What if that’s  _ why? _ What if that’s _ how? _ What other reason would he need? He has to be here. He  _ needs _ that second chance. More than anyone. And it’s because of how much he loved us-”

He realizes what he’s saying the moment he says it. And he catches Kayano blinking back tears in the dim light.

...He's forgetting someone.

He reaches out a hand and places it on her shoulder. “I…” 

“I loved her. With my  _ life-” _

How could he forget, even for a moment? Aguri had raised Kayano; Molded her into the person she is today. Kayano had very nearly died trying to avenge her. He’d never have met Kayano if not for how deeply she’d cared for her sister. That year had affected her more than anyone. She’d… Loved them both. And she’d lost more than even he had. If her vehemently protective nature, and the green streak she keeps in her hair say anything, it’s that.

_ Shit. _

He searches for words. “...I’m sure she’s out there somewhere too-” is all he can find.

Kayano softly shakes her head. “I just… Hate the thought that he’d ever be without her. That’s not what either of them would have wanted.”

...And she’s right. He’d never noticed it at the time- But in hindsight Korosensei had carried a certain heaviness with him. There’d been a deep sorrow hidden behind that endlessly supportive smile. Even Korosensei had had his regrets.

Nagisa knows the feeling all too well.

There’s a pit in his stomach.

“I... I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to imply-”

“I know.” Kayano cuts him off.

“Okay,” he replies. Something tells him this conversation is over. “I’m sorry. I just had to get that off my chest. But… Maybe I was wrong,” he admits. “You have a point.” 

Korosensei had only loved one thing as much as he loved his class. And that was Aguri Yukimura.

“...I said it’s _ fine, _ ” Kayano repeats. The irritation bristles in her voice. But when she sees Nagisa flinch backward, her shoulders lower. “I… Know you didn’t mean to,” she says.

“...Okay.” Nagisa says. 

Silence.

“I think we should get back to bed,” Kayano says. “Thank you for telling me what’s going on.” Her words feel empty. 

Nagisa awkwardly stands. “...And for the record: She loved you. With her entire heart,” he reassures. 

“I know.” Kayano stands. “You don't need to tell me that. I don’t want to dwell on it any more than I already have.”

With the fire in her heart, he can’t blame her.

They silently return to bed. He reaches to slide an arm around her, but hesitates, and settles for a,  “Night. I love you.”

“...Love you too,” she replies.

He turns over and stares at the wall. Gakushuu and Karma sleep like babies, bodies tangled in a knot. And Kayano tries her best not to dwell.

But with Makoto’s grin on his mind, Nagisa can’t do anything but. 

* * *

The next morning is weird.

Here’s the thing. Nagisa knows what happened last night wasn’t exactly a _ fight. _ At least he wouldn’t like to think about it that way. But regardless of what he calls it, he’d still hurt Kayano’s feelings. And the worst part is he can’t even apologize for it without bringing up the topic again and reopening the wound. Kayano’d told him to drop it. The last thing he needs to be debating is what her dead sister deserved.

(The world, of course!)

...But is life fair?

Now that’s food for thought. And somehow that’s far more distracting than his actual breakfast.

It’s not even that he’d  _ meant _ to not mention her. He’d just forgotten. But did that just make him an even bigger asshole!?

“Oi.” Karma snaps his fingers. “You gotta get something on your stomach,” he says. “So eat up.”

Nagisa takes a bite.

“Someone didn’t sleep well last night, did he?” Karma asks.

“Does it show that badly?”

“Bags under your eyes for days, babe!”

Kayano rolls her eyes. “Don’t give him too much shit, Karma!”

She’s pretending nothing happened. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what she’s legitimately over and what’s still bothering her. She’s one damn good actor, after all.

It can make for a nasty combination with his emotional denseness. It had taken him  _ seven years  _ to notice she’d been harboring feelings for him, for fuck’s sake! They’d drifted apart a bit during those years, and he can’t help but feel like during that time he’d been a pretty shitty friend. He’d felt… Bad about everything that had gone down. And she’d made a deliberate effort to avoid him in her own right.

They’d only reconnected after a class reunion. Nagisa hadn’t managed to attend, as he’d been busy with student teaching, but Karma had had a nice long talk with Kayano. Shortly afterward he’d pulled Nagisa aside and told him what he’d pulled with his former best friend was a pretty dick move. And it had taken that for Nagisa, with all the social awareness of a fucking middle schooler to realize  _ ‘Oh my God, that WAS a dick move.’ _

Thankfully, she’d been willing to reconnect. And they’d hit it off in no time. Turns out they’d been so close for a reason. They just clicked! And… It turns out she’d drifted apart from him in fear of holding him back. She hadn’t wanted to “become a distraction.”

_...Never!  _ She was someone he held dear. And even as the years have passed by, and that rekindled friendship has grown into something more intimate, he’s lived in fear of letting her feel that way about herself again. It’s… Something they’ve talked about extensively. And they’ve made massive strides in being open with their feelings when it comes to communication. But last night Nagisa reached a new low.

...He knew he shouldn’t have said anything.

Wait! Fuck! No! That contradicts the ‘Open and loving communication with your spouse to avoid further issues’ thing.  _ Gah.  _ No. He’s glad he told her. He just wished he’d gone about it in a different way. The conversation had ended on such a sour note. But it’s too late to give it any closure now. Are they really just going to pretend that didn’t happen?

“Admit it! You think his eye bags are sexy, anyways!”

Now _ that _ derails his train of thought.

“Wha-?” he sputters.

Karma snickers. “I knew you were zoning out,” he says. “Welcome back to the real world, bud. We’re discussing the whether or not you look hotter exhausted.”

“Why would I be paying attention to you arguing over whether or not I’m sexier sleep deprived!?”

“Because it’s a deeply important topic of discussion. Cast your votes now.”

“We all know you’re merely trying to cause a scene, Karma,” Gakushuu says.

“Now why on earth would you say that?” Karma feigns.

“Because if perpetual exhaustion made you consider someone’s ‘ass more tappable,’  _ and your words, not mine, for the record:  _ I’d be the most attractive person in this household,” Gakushuu replies, downing a cup of coffee.

“I’ll have you know you’re plenty h-” Karma stops right in his tracks. _ “Wait! Did I just get you to admit you’re not the hottest person in this house!?” _ He begins to wheeze with laughter.

Gakushuu jolts. “You very well know I didn’t mean it that way!” he hisses.

But it’s too late. Karma’s already back on his bullshit. “The narcissistic, egotistical Gakushuu doesn’t think he’s hot!”

Gakushuu promptly raises a middle finger.

“Jeez, jeez!” Karma reels back. “No need to take your insecurities out on poor, innocent me.”

“Oh. So _ that’s  _ what you’re calling yourself now?”

“It’s much healthier than calling myself unhot.”

“I- I didn-” Gakushuu sighs and gives it up. He knows better than anyone else under this roof when Karma’s just yanking on his chain.

Nagisa can’t help but roll his eyes. Kayanos’ stifling laughter as he stands up. “I’m getting dressed.”

Karma gives a nod of acknowledgment. “Okay, okay. I see how it is. You don’t have time for our hijinks. Gotta be a responsible adult and all.” 

Now that’s one word for it. He slides out of his chair and begins the walk up to the bedroom. He swears he hears Karma groan “C’mon! Don’t look at me like _ that. _ ” Under his breath. “I’m just screwing with you. You’re a delight.”

“I  _ am _ a fucking delight!” Gakushuu triumphantly (and loudly) agrees, confirming Nagisa’s suspicions even from halfway across the house. “A provocative, hot and sleep deprived delight!”

Karma mumbles some words of agreement, the fondness undeniable in his voice.

Admittedly, those two have come a long way since middle school, too. There was a time when their relationship had been built entirely on one-upping each other. And although they still have a tenancy to get on each others’ nerves, they know what lines not to cross. When the two of them had gotten together during first year, Nagisa had been seriously worried about how that would end. But they’ve grown up a lot over the past fifteen years. So… It turns out it hadn’t ended in disaster. It’s ended up in heated debates over the breakfast table, and a relationship with all of the love (And all of the pettiness) of a bickering old married couple.

He lays his clothes on the bed and reaches for his tie.

“You didn’t eat.”

Kayano stands in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.

“Wasn’t hungry,” Nagisa says. He avoids eye contact.

Kayano sighs. “...Still thinking about last night?”

“Yeah,” Nagisa admits.

Kayano sits down on the bed. “Listen. I’m not mad at you-”

“I know,” he says, pulling his pajamas off over his head.

“I’m sorry I snapped.”

“You didn’t snap,” Nagisa matter-of-factly reassures. He knows all about aggression. It’s something his spouses are careful to keep in check around him. But this wasn’t that.

“I still hurt your feelings.”

“And I hurt yours,” Nagisa replies with a shrug. “...I feel bad about making you cry.” He pulls his pants up and slides on his uniform.

“...You didn’t mean to, Nagisa,” Kayano says, reaching for his hand. “It was just… A lot to think about,” she admits. “I couldn’t deal with that last night. _ I couldn’t.” _

“I don’t blame you,” Nagisa replies. She tugs on his hand, and before he knows it he’s taken a seat on the bed as well. “...I shouldn’t have dumped that on you.”

“Don’t say that.” She places her other hand on the back of his hand. “...You shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.”

“I mean, I told Ritsu-” he tries to divert.

“That’s different,” Kayano insists. “You’d have felt bad hiding it from us.” She pauses, a concerned look spreading across her face. “...Have you even told the others?”

“No.”

Her lips purse. _ “Nagisa…-” _

“I know, I know-” he admits. It sounds bad. “But you know for a fact Gakushuu wouldn’t believe me.”

“No. I don’t know that-” Kayano refutes.

“Do _ you  _ believe me?”

Kayano’s quiet.

“...I’m not sure I’d go that far,” she admits. “But I support you. And I will no matter what.”

It’s Nagisa’s turn to fall silent. Kayano leans on his shoulder.

“It’s not that I don’t believe your credibility, Nagisa. And it’s certainly not that I  _ think you’re losing your mind.  _ I’m just worried.”

“I’d argue those are the same thing,” Nagisa points out.

Kayano sighs. “Why do you have to be so difficult?” she asks.

“I’m, like, ten sorts of stressed right now.”

“Then let me help,” she replies. “...You should _ know  _ we’re always here for you. Something tells me Gakushuu would put a lot more faith in you than you’re giving him credit for. He’s not a cynic. He just likes his proof. The moment you give him something to go off of like that essay-”

“And Karma?”

“Excuse me?”

“Karma’s never going to let me live this down, Kayano! At best, I’m going to become a big fat joke to him. At worst, he’s going to be pissed at me for spitting in the face of Korosensei’s legacy like that! After everything he did for us! He  _ died _ for us. How can I insult him like that?”

He doesn’t even realize he’s raised his voice until he hears his heart pounding in his ears.

Kayano looks him in the eyes. “Do… _ You _ even really believe this, Nagisa?”

Nagisa’s shoulders lower. “...I don’t know.” But he’d like to. He’d really, really like to.

“Then maybe you should hold off on telling them,” Kayano admits. “But you shouldn’t hold off on trusting them. You shouldn’t be scared of Karma. He’s your husband, for Pete’s sake-”

“I know-” 

“You keep saying that. But you know he’d be hurt if he heard you were thinking about him that way.” Kayano frowns. “Korosensei was just as important to him as he was to us. He deserves to know. And  _ you’re  _ even more important to him. He’d never, and I mean _ never  _ look down on what you find truly important. He’d only ever want what’s best for you. He promised that the day he married you.”

...Kayano’s right. He’s not fourteen anymore, either. Karma is one of the loves of his life. He’d never want to hurt Nagisa. Smug and snarky and rude, but his husband nonetheless. He knows what lines not to cross with Nagisa anymore, too. Gender jokes and death jokes, and most certainly jokes about anything that would take Nagisa so much courage to come forward with in the first place.

“We all promised that. And… Until you find enough of a reason to believe your theory or not,  _ I’ll  _ be here for you.”

Nagisa’s eyes water. He’s… Spent a very long time terrified of messing up. Terrified of scaring Kayano away again. It’s taken hard work, but they’ve made leaps and bounds in being more open with their feelings when it comes to communicating with each other.

...He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“...Thanks, Kayano.”

“No problem. You should probably start heading out,” she admits. “...Sorry for the distraction. Last night just kind of left a bad taste in my mouth.”

“You and me both,” Nagisa agrees. “And don’t apologize. It means a lot. That you care so much, I mean.”

“Of course I do.” She leans away and brushes up his outfit, before reaching for his tie.

“And… When it comes to, well, everything. I’ll keep her in mind. Because you’re right. Korosensei would never. Not without her.” Yeah. He’d like to believe the world is at least some sort of fair. How could it not be, when he’s surrounded so thoroughly by people who love and support him?

“Thanks. That means a lot.” She finishes tying his tie and gives him a tired smile. “...Have a nice day, okay?”

“I will,” he promises, and tries his best to mean it.

She reaches for his tie and pulls him in for a kiss on the cheek. His cheeks flush bright red.

“Kayano-!” he sputters.

“Sorry,” she says with a giggle. “The mood felt too somber.” She pushes him off the bed and onto his feet. “I won’t hold you up anymore. But next time you don’t trust us, try to remember this, okay?”

Nagisa nods. “...Alright. I will.” And _ that _ he knows he’ll mean.

He makes his way across the room.

“Oh! And say hi to Makoto for me, okay?” Kayano shouts. “Conspiracy or not, he sounds like a wonderful kid.”

“Will do,” he replies. He makes his way downstairs and is stopped for his daily (and all-too-mushy) goodbye kisses. And looking into Gakushuu and Karma’s eyes, he has to wonder if Kayano is right.

...He can trust them about this... Right?

* * *

Makoto’s mornings are uneventful.

He slides out of his futon and stretches with a smile.

The sunlight is filtering in through the window. Glancing at the clock, he figures the exact time is 8:02. It’s a little later than he likes to get up, but better late than never, he supposes!

His dad snores uninterrupted on the couch. It’s a rare occurrence he’s up before Makoto is. He doesn’t particularly mind. He knows the man works hard, if the scattered bottles around the couch indicate anything about his stress levels.

Welp! No time to dwell on  _ that!  _ It’s time for school, silly!

He doesn’t dilly-dally. He wiggles out of yesterday’s clothes and into today’s attire, quickly running his fingers through his hair before bursting out the door. 

He makes his way through back alleys and across roads, only slowing down when he skids to a stop at a certain alleyway. He peeks his head in and cups his hands around his mouth. “Miss Nao!?” he shouts curiously, but quickly remembers the time. Ah! Shit! School. Right. His feline friend can wait.

She seems to be a no-show today, anyways.

He resumes his sprint down the streets. He feels like an anime boy running for his life, or at least his grades, toast in his mouth and everything. Well - Minus the actual toast. He hadn’t had time for breakfast, or any actual breakfast ready at the house.

His stomach rumbles incessantly. 

He makes a stop at the street corner 7/11. 

_ Eh. He has time.  _

He peeks his head in the automatic doors and revels in the air-conditioned safe haven of the convenience store. It’s a hot day out, after all! He snakes around to the sweets aisle with a calm, collected smile.

It’s not a particularly busy day. It’s about as crowded as the typical 7/11. A handful of folks loiter around, catching up and catching breakfast. No-one looks his way. They don’t notice. With such a perfectly crafted poker face, how could they ever?

He snags an ice cream and a small box of strawberry pocky, then proceeds to immediately make his exit without paying.

He waits until he rounds the corner to tear open his ice cream and dig in. Another job well done! 

He’s well aware it’s not exactly “right,” but he’ll do what he needs to to get by. He’s very quickly learned that sometimes in the real world, it’s each man for himself. You can’t always do what’s right, but he likes to think he makes up for it in other departments. Like his sparkling personality! He’s a nice dude, he swears!

There’s a skip in his step as he saunters down the street, even reflecting on how no-one’s looking out for him but himself.

That’s okay. He’ll do the looking out for himself _ and  _ for everyone else. 

He’s got the route to school pretty much memorized by now. It’s a long walk, but even taking a shortcut or ten it’s basically a straight line. If he hurries, he’s sure he can make it by nine.

A half hour late ain’t too bad! So far the worst time he’s managed to clock in was eleven, and he’s pretty sure nothing’s going to be usurping that level of blatant misstep anytime soon.

Hell! Mistakes and all, it feels like he’s doing better at school than ever.

He  _ likes  _ school. He likes his classmates! And most importantly, they like him. It feels like all his hard work is finally paying off. Nagisa looks out for him. After years and years of “Makoto, no,” “Makoto, why!?,” upturned noses and disappointed stares, it’s so relieving to finally hear a “Good job,” alongside that reassuring smile. It really, really feels like Makoto’s finally found someone who believes in him.

Admittedly he’s not sure he can trust him entirely yet, but he  _ wants _ to. And that’s a new one.

Constellate isn’t like his other schools. It’s not boring. They don’t yell at him for moving or yell at him for talking too much. And they certainly don’t seem the type to expel him for impulsive decisions, gratuitous violence, or lighting the toilet on fire. (Come on! It had been  _ one time!) _

There’s  _ life _ to the school. When it’s warm outside they’ll pack up their stuff and study outside or run through the forest for a hands-on lesson. Nagisa cracks jokes when he fumbles and lets them pass around the snake during downtime. Flowers blossom in the garden, and Nagisa lets them tend to them if they promise to be gentle.

Then, there’s assassination. Now  _ there’s _ something he’d never have seen at another school. Makoto’s never felt anything like it; The way it makes his blood race. When he gets his hands on a blade, it’s like he’s right at home.

He reaches the mountain and looks warmly at the building perched on top. 

_ Constellate  _ feels like home.

The way every head rises when he enters the room. The compassionate warmth of his friends and the homely architecture of the old building. The way the sunlight filters in through the windows and the faint smell of sawdust. An excitement to finally really, truly learn. A safe haven of knowledge. The comforting familiarity of his teacher’s outstretched hand.

...Nagisa feels like home, too.

That has to be why he worked so hard. Signed up and sifted through all the paperwork himself, headache be damned. He’d had to. He’d _ needed _ to. The moment he’d even heard of Constellate, it’s sole teacher, and the thoroughly loved building it occupied.

...How could he not?

He’s seen it in his dreams all his life, after all.

* * *

“I want to learn more about him.”

The words stop Nagisa in his tracks.

He and Makoto had been going over his Japanese. Makoto had been struggling with a certain phrase and Nagisa had taught him a trick Korosensei had given him back in the day. He’d only mentioned his teacher offhand, but Makoto had sprung forth the moment the words had come out of his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

...Hearing him ask about him puts Nagisa on edge. 

Ever since he let the thought enter his mind, he’s had trouble looking Makoto in the eyes.

_ ‘I think Korosensei is back.’ _

It’s inane. It’s dumb. It’s refutable for a plethora of reasons. But it’s an itch he just can’t scratch, and he’s seen the way it’s puzzled Ritsu and Kayano as well. 

Makoto stares him down with that smile. “Korosensei. You talk and talk and talk about him, but never give us any details!”

“Well, you’re in luck, buddy. We’ll actually be going over it in class, eventually. Korosensei. What happened to the moon. Everything.” Strangely enough, it’s actually a pretty big hallmark for history. Or. On second thought, is it truly that strange? Of course, the earth-shattering, world-changing, superpower who’d “destroyed the moon” is bound to be something to remember. But at the same time, it feels like such a mundane thing from his childhood. Lazy summer memories of trying to tip their teacher into the pool and run-of-the-mill days spent with their heads buried in textbooks etched into the walls of history.

Makoto whines. “But I wanna know about him now! Like… Who he was!” He leans forward on the desk. “Please, Nagisa? Just for a little bit? I promise I’ll get right back to work afterwards!”

Nagisa thinks. If… If Makoto is in some way related to Korosensei, he deserves to know about him. And if he isn’t, what is there to lose? He’ll get to share some fond memories of the teacher he just can’t get his mind off of, and give Makoto a well-deserved break.

“Okay, okay,” he relents, tossing Makoto a bag of Konpeito with a smile. “We can take a quick break and talk about Korosensei.”

“Yes!” Makoto shouts with a triumphant fist-pump. 

Nagisa has to give him a quick reminder to use his inside voice as he scoots his chair in. Technically they’re the only ones in the building, but who knows? He could always scare the snake.

“...So… What do you know about Korosensei already?” Nagisa asks.

Makoto’s quiet. He taps his finger on his desk, deep in thought. “Well… He was cool, and a teacher, and had superpowers, and blew stuff up.”

Nagisa stares in disbelief. “Is that all you’ve learned about him?” Other schools’ handling of the topic has always pissed him off. He  _ knows  _ it’s irrational to expect other people to understand the event to the same extent he does, but all that seems to go around about his late teacher is either barebones facts or blatant misinfo. He knows a decent amount of Makoto’s lack of knowledge can likely be chalked up to his lackluster education in general, but he’s flipped through actual textbooks as well, and they aren’t much better.

Makoto’s lips purse. “Well... “ He stares downward intently. “He was yellow. And slimy. And… He taught here, right?”

Fuck, man! He sure did!

“Yes, of course,” Nagisa replies. He’s talked about it pretty extensively? “In this exact building.”

Makoto’s eyes seem to light up. He glances all around the room with wonder, letting that sink in.

“He showed up early in the school year,” Nagisa says. “It was a surprise to all of us. Our previous teacher had been absent for about a week when Karasuma-sensei showed up with him.”

“Who?” Makoto asks.

“Karasuma-sensei. He worked for the government. Well- Works. A real gruff, no-nonsense military type with a soft spot. He was given responsibility for taking care of Korosensei. Now he’s mostly settled down, though. He’s actually Kiyoshi’s dad.”

Makoto nods sagely. “Oh! I actually knew that! He told me.” He pauses. “You shoulda’ just said ‘Kiyoshi’s dad’ off the bat.”

Nagisa chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.” He pauses. “At first we were completely baffled. I mean, you can’t even begin to imagine what it was like: Not only having such a strange person show up to take the role of your teacher, but being told it’s your sworn duty to kill him.”

“I dunno,” Makoto says. “That’s sort of what you pulled on us. And  _ we’re  _ not too phased,” he brags. “At least, I’m not!”

Nagisa smiles. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, Makoto.” Even if he’s slightly offended at the implication that he also qualifies as ‘such a strange person.’ “We were almost intimidated. But we got to know Korosensei in no-time.” At first, they’d feared he looked down on them. And in some ways, he had. But he’d also looked at them in a way no teacher had before. 

“For an octopus monster, he was nothing like his appearance would have suggested,” Nagisa explains. “Yes, he had superpowers. And slimy tentacles. A goofy smile and yellow skin. But there was so much more to him than that.” He pauses, giving Makoto a contemplative look. “He was… Kind. And he was smart. And he was embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” Makoto asks in disbelief.

“As petty as a man could get,” Nagisa reassures. “Loud and goofy and easily jealous. He’d cheer us on from the sidelines as loud as he could, like some sort of overbearing mother. But as much as it got on our nerves, we always knew it came from a place of love.” At least, in hindsight. At the time it was just about as mortifying as you could imagine for a ten-foot octopus to show up to your high school applications clapping and cheering as rapidly as he could. (VERY rapidly, for the record.)

“Don’t get the wrong idea, though!” Nagisa says, remembering Korosensei’s own sore spot for ‘slander.’ “He was… The nicest teacher we’d ever had. He was funny, and he was stubborn, and he  _ never  _ gave up on anyone. He found a way to make friends wherever he went.” Well. Almost everywhere he went. Nagisa decides to refrain from mentioning Korosensei’s porn habit for now.

He looks over at Makoto munching intently on his candy. “He had a sweet tooth, too. One even worse than yours, I’d bet.”

Makoto huffs. “No way!” He says, cramming his mouth full of candy with the intensity of any preteen who’s been told he’s been bested. 

Nagisa yelps as Makoto coughs, still ferociously shoveling Konpeito into his mouth. “Stop!” he begs. “You’re gonna choke, Makoto!” 

Makoto mumbles something about being unable to die, but it’s hard to decipher with his mouth so full. With a little (Okay. A lot-) more coaxing, Nagisa manages to get him to stop funneling pure excess sugar down his throat.

“...He sounds pretty cool,” Makoto finally admits. “You know. For a guy who liked to blow things up.”

“The coolest,” Nagisa agrees. He glances out the window. “He didn’t actually destroy the moon, you know.” 

“Woah! He didn’t!?” Makoto’s mouth hangs agape.

Now _ that’s _ one thing the world never would have believed the class on. Korosensei had taken public blame for what had happened to the moon to gain his notoriety and therefore his position. There’s no proof the actual culprit had ever existed. And who’d have possibly believed a bunch of dumb kids secondhand accounts of a  _ moon rat? _

“Nope,” Nagisa says. “He took credit for it, but he’d never even been to space.” He purses his lips and smirks. “Korosensei was a lot better at playing a supervillain than actually being one.”

“Heyyyyyyy. I’m sure he was at least sort of threatening,” Makoto refutes, arms crossed. “...But if he didn’t destroy it, what  _ did?” _

Korosensei had refused to tell his students about his past for as long as he possibly could. All things considered, he doesn’t exactly feel like it’s something Makoto needs to learn about right now. He doesn’t want to scare the kid with talk of antimatter. That’s not the part of Korosensei’s legacy they should be reflecting on, anyways.

“Eh. I think I’ll make you wait til' the class reaches the Moon Unit for that one. I can’t give away all the plot twists, now can I?”

Makoto whines. “C’mon! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!” he chants, slamming his hands on the table.

“Aw, rats,” Nagisa says, just barely holding back a snicker at his ingenious comment. Now  _ that  _ one’s gonna come around like a boomerang and hit Makoto square in the forehead in a few months. “Can’t I get a break? I’m just trying to keep things fun for you.” If Korosensei had managed to keep his forbidden backstory on the down low for so long, Nagisa will do him one better. If not to be a mysterious mentor figure, then out of pure spite.

“Come  _ on!”  _ Makoto groans. “At least tell me some sort of badass story about him!”

Nagisa strokes his chin. “Let me see. Once he tore out our flowerbed and we proceeded to tie him up and hit him with sticks,”

“That’s not badass at all!”

“Okay, okay. What about the time he decided to do impromptu Naruto cosplay while tutoring my classmate?”

“That’s even less cool!” Makoto shouts. _ “This guy was actually a real loser, wasn’t he!?” _

Nagisa can’t help but laugh. Korosensei was certainly capable of being rather ‘badass’ when he put his mind to it, but more often than not he was just a goofy loser. He thinks that’s an important part of Korosensei to carry on. Both in lieu of how he wished to be perceived distancing himself from his past, and how he put the people around him in such a bright mood. It makes him seem down to earth. It makes him seem human. And… He was. Nagisa wants his students to know that, more than anything. That Korosensei was just like them.

...And, admittedly, it’s just hilarious to see Makoto’s reactions. Y'know... If he really is-

No. Please don’t think that way. Not in front of him.

Nagisa sighs. “The biggest loser we knew.” It had helped him feel like one of them. In a world where every teacher had felt like an enemy, he’d been willing to put himself on their level. He smiles sadly reflecting on the memory.

Makoto’s quiet, munching on his candy. He observes Nagisa’s face closely. “...Seems like you were really fond of him,” he finally says.

Yeah. He’d just about saved Nagisa’s life. All of their lives. He looks out the window. The moon’s no longer visible by this time of day. “Yeah. He was a good man. I miss him every day.”

He can’t help but wonder if he’s putting too much on Makoto’s shoulders. It’s not like he doesn’t know what it’s like to feel forced into a mold. Is… Is he going about this wrong? He never wants Korosensei, or  _ Makoto, _ or **_any child_ ** to feel the way he had back then.

...The feeling that Korosensei had given him the courage to liberate himself from. 

Makoto wraps his arms around Nagisa. He jolts. He hadn’t even noticed him scoot his chair closer.

This time, there’s no explosion.

“You seemed sad,” Makoto admits. “Sorry I asked about it.”

“No, no. Don’t worry,” Nagisa reassures. The last thing Makoto needs to be doing is taking care of _ him _ right now. “...Thanks, Makoto. It means a lot.”

Makoto squeezes tighter. “No problem.” He says, before pulling away with a reassuring smile.

...Yeah. He won’t tell Makoto what he’s thinking about. He makes that promise to himself right then and here. He can’t dare risk destroying that smile.

“We should probably get back to work,” Nagisa finally says.

“Okay,” Makoto relents, but pauses. “...Can you tell me more stories about Korosensei sometime? This was fun.”

...But  _ that _ he can do. Stories won’t hurt.

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 5! CHAPTER 5!
> 
> I can’t believe I’m already on Chapter 5. FUCK, man. I’m making good progress. Feels awesome!
> 
> It feels really relieving having Nagisa finally open up to someone, even if it didn’t go exactly ideally at first. What can I say? Do you expect ME to just write a fic about reincarnation and NOT overthink the ethics and implications behind it? No siree! I’m just like Nagisa and Gakushuu, awake at 4AM overthinking things. I don’t exactly have an answer to Nagisa and Kayano’s question, but I DO have this wonderful comic to meme on their conversation. So enjoy? That?
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/171426358@N08/46889495335/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> That said, I didn’t want their tension to go on too long. They’re definitely a couple who openly communicates with each other. They’ve had years to figure out how each other tick, so they definitely know some things about conflict resolution that younger couples wouldn’t know. That’s definitely something I deliberately wanted to explore with this fic: How Nagisa and his spouses (Who I’ve nicknamed the Moonrise Quartet, for the record) try to openly understand each other’s emotions and serve as each others’ rocks, even if they stumble sometimes.
> 
> If you had any doubts, yes: The cat’s finally out of the bag. Obviously Makoto IS the reincarnation of Korosensei. But even he himself doesn’t seem entirely aware of it yet, now does he? Which just raises the question: Does he deserve to know? Or is ignorance bliss?
> 
> I’m sorry about his Crimes. He’s a problematic child. And yes, no worries, you WILL get to meet the mysterious “Miss Nao” eventually. She’s a delight. I hope you enjoyed the first scene from Makoto’s perspective, because it’ll be the last one for a little while! (Sorry! As the mystery of the fic he’s gotta stay a BIT of an enigma!)
> 
> The scene with Makoto and Nagisa interacting was of course a delight to write. I love how they interact, and all things considered they make for an interesting teacher & student duo. Both their shenanigans and their serious conversations manage to pull on my heartstrings.
> 
> I also hope you enjoyed the “aw, rats” joke. Because I just about lost my shit writing it.
> 
> Some songs that helped with writing this chapter were Stars’ Dead Hearts (OOF this one hits hard thematically. I love it, though.), Fun’s C’mon, Electric Light Orchestra’s Mr. Blue Sky (I consider this one a huge theme song for Makoto), Aladdin’s One Jump, and The Long Winter’s It’s A Departure.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think! The next one will be out before you know it! o7


	6. Karma Time

Karma has a bad habit of inviting himself into Nagisa’s classroom, and Nagisa has a bad habit of letting him get away with it.

For a man of such high standing, he truly hasn’t changed a bit.

It’s halfway through English, at about 10AM, when he moseys on in through the door and tosses a textbook in the trash can with a casual, “Yo!”

Now _ that  _ disrupts class in an instant.

Students burst out into chatter. A few stand up. Kiyoshi covers his face with his hands. And Nagisa’s perfectly organized lesson grinds to a halt.

Well. He can’t say he hadn’t warned them.

“It’s him!”

“Random politician guy!”

“Akabane!” 

“Oh, so I see I have some fans already!” Karma says, sauntering across the room over to Nagisa’s desk. Something tells him this is going to be a long day.

“What are you doing here?” Nagisa asks.

“Got off work early,” Karma replies. “Figured I’d stop by and get to know your latest batch of little bastards. Hope you don’t mind?”

Nagisa shrugs. “Not at all.” As… Abrupt as it is, it’s always a delight to see Karma. And there’s only so much hands-on lessons can do for kids’ attention spans. Sometimes they need something truly entertaining, and sometimes that something truly entertaining is his trainwreck of a husband.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. Students “ooh,” “aah,” gasp and groan. There’s even an annoyed, “Get a room!”

Karma turns towards the kids and looks them over like a hawk searching for its next kill. Nagisa reaches to put his books away.

Terumi’s hand shoots in the air. “Does this mean the lesson is over?” she asks eagerly.

“For now,” Nagisa relents. “Everyone can take a break. Karma time.”

A cheer resonates throughout the room. Hooting, hollering, and slamming palms on their desks, the students begin to chant. “Karma time! Karma time!”

Nagisa jolts. “Guys! Guys- A little quieter-” he insists, practically stumbling over his own feet. “No need t-”

He loses his composure when Karma joins in. “Karma time! Karma time!” Nagisa grins and covers his mouth with his hands as he desperately tries to hold back laughter. For a grownass man, he’s still as effective at disrupting school as when he was a fourteen-year-old brat. Seeing him lead a rallying cry dressed up in his suit is too much.

Kiyoshi looks just about ready to implode. He refuses to look Karma’s way.

“Work on practicing your vocab while he’s here, okay?” Nagisa finally instructs.  It’s not like Karma (Who’s now prowling around the room as the cheers die down) can hound them all at once. 

He stops at Yoshito’s desk with a grin.

“And you are?” 

“Yoshito,” the boy replies, thoroughly unimpressed.

It’s okay. Rosey, seated directly behind him, has enough enthusiasm for the both of them. “Sir! Sir! Sir!” she hounds. “Is it true you’re the love of Shiota-sensei’s life?”

Yoshito and Minako let out collective groans. Rosey shoots them an offended look as Karma leans on the desk. “Well, I’m not sure I’d go  _ that  _ far. But, yes, if the kiss didn’t tip you off, we’re hitched.”

Rosey gasps. “I knew it!” It’s not exactly a bold conclusion to reach, considering Nagisa’s explicitly told the whole class this, but he figures he’ll let her have this victory. “You gotta tell us how you met!”

“Yeah!” Kiku shouts from across the room. “Shiota-sensei refuses to tell us!”

Nagisa stands up, sputtering. “H-Hey! That’s not-”

Karma dramatically gasps. “Nagisa! How  _ could  _ you!?”

“I’m saving it!” he cries in his defense. 

Karma snickers. “You really wanna know, kids?” Just about every head in the room nods in exhilaration. “Because _ I’ll  _ share what he won’t.”

He pauses, giving the severity of the situation a moment to sink in, before leaning in with a smirk. “...We met over Sonic Ninja.” He stage-whispers.

“Over  _ what!?”  _

“Oh! My dad loves those movies!”

“Ew! They’re so old! Like Naruto!”

“No wonder he was embarrassed to share!”

“That can’t be it! There has to be more to it!”

“You’re right,” Karma admits, shaking his head in defeat. “...I left out one crucial element of how we fell for each other…”

“Tell us! Tell us!”

“WcDonalds.”

_ Ah, WcDonalds.  _ The prime location of middle school hangouts when your town genuinely has nowhere more interesting to go. The only place where he’s ever had the delight of seeing Karma in a ball pit, and the bane of Gakushuu’s existence.

“Excuse me?” Haruhi chokes.

“There’s nothing else to say: WcDonalds dates.”

“Are. Are you going to expand on that one?” 

“No,” Karma says, matter-of-factly. Nagisa swears he hears Fumiko murmur something about “hating poor people” as Karma struts to the other side of the room. 

“Any other questions?”

“You can’t just not explain that!” someone hisses.

_ “Any other questions?”  _

Kaya meekly raises a hand.

“Yes! You! Little boy!” Karma points. “What is it?”

“...Is your hair natural?”

“Excuse me?” Karma asks. “Of course it’s natural! Who do you think I am? One of those balding politicians? No. I’m a certified hotboy.”

“...The color.”

“Eh?”

“I meant the  _ color, _ ” Kaya says, the bafflement clear in his tone. “...I’d sure hope you’re not balding. It’s just that it’s a very bright red...”

“Oh,  _ oh, _ ” Karma exclaims. “Yes, yes, of course it’s natural,” he explains. “What do you take me for? Some kind of sham? Take this more seriously. Non-obvious questions only.”

Kaya shies back.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding!” Karma quickly emphasizes. “It was a fair question.” Any question about him may as well be. If nothing else, Karma loves to talk about himself.

“Okay. I’ll ask a serious question,” Fumiko says, looking at him skeptically. “What do you even  _ do?” _

“Bureaucratic work,” Karma says matter of factly, slinking towards Fumiko. Kiyoshi looks away as he reaches her desk.

“I already knew that much,” she says. “Your husband wasted no time in telling us.” She crosses her arms. “But what do you actually accomplish? Remind me why they pay you again?”

“Oh, it’s boring adult stuff,” Karma handwaves. “I’m sure it’s nothing that would interest you much.”

“Try me.”

Nagisa sees Karma raise an eyebrow. He gives him a nod as permission to go right ahead and explain. It may be ‘boring,’ but anything can make a good learning opportunity. Especially with a charismatic speaker like Ka-

"I get to piss _ everyone _ off,  _ and _ get a fat salary for it."

“I... See,” Fumiko says through visible distaste. “I don’t see why  _ that’s _ worth the pay grade they give someone like you. There are MUCH more important jobs out there than ones for people with inflated egos like you.” Her voice is absolutely vitriolic. Nagisa can’t help but wonder if Karma’s inconvenienced her family sometime in the past. Seeing as how often the needs of the state tend to clash with the needs of the people, and things grow even more particularly complicated when wealth is involved… Yeah. It’d be a good reason to know his name.

Karma reels back from the demonic middle-schooler. “Awww, c’mon! You think it’s cool, don’t you Kiyoshi?”

Kiyoshi lets out an ‘Eep,’ but quickly nods. “Of- Of course! Akabane-san does very important work.” It doesn’t take much detective work to figure he’s all sorts of embarrassed to be seeing Karma here. Nagisa can’t exactly blame him. Karma and Kiyoshi’s relationship is… Strange, at best. While Karma’s as much family to him as anyone else from the E-Class, he’s also the sort of family you don’t want to be seeing in public. Nagisa gets it. Karma’s spiteful, humiliating, and has more than once slung Kiyoshi under his arm like a sack of potatoes.

“See?  _ Kiyoshi  _ supports me.”

Kiyoshi’s deeply awkward expression would suggest otherwise, but Karma only leans in closer.

“Even if he _ is  _ totally embarrassed of me. Which is no way to treat your Uncle Karma.” He snickers and affectionately ruffles Kiyoshi’s hair, before turning to his next victim. Kiyoshi shoots the back of his head a look that says  _ ‘if I were a braver man I would tear you limb from limb.’ _

“Any other questions?”

“Is it true Shiota-sensei’s picked up two other hotties?” Ryoka asks. “Or did he, like, totally photoshop them in?”

_ Why is his personal life starting to feel like the subject of a harem anime!? _

“Hotties, no. Spouses, yes.” Karma says without missing a beat.

“I’m telling them you said that,” Nagisa says.

“Pah! I’m not afraid of Gakushuu-”

“He’s not the one you should be worried about,” Nagisa specifies.

“Fair point!” Karma says with a chuckle.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! I have a question!” Kazuki says, standing up and putting his hand high in the air. Nagisa opens his mouth to protest, but it’s already too late.

“Mm?”

_ “How’s the sex?” _

Now that takes even Karma aback. “I- Uh- Well-” He stumbles over his words, face an uncharacteristic shade of red, before settling on “Undisclosable.” 

“Bo- _ ring. _ ” Kazuki complains, but Karma stands firm. He knows all about how to egg someone on, and would never once fall for one of his own tactics. He’s many, many,  _ many _ things, among them spiteful and inappropriate, but willing to describe his sex life to a pack of ravenous twelve-year-olds is beyond even him.

He regains his composure quickly. He leans down and places a palm on Kazuki’s desk. “If I may ask you a question…” He drifts off.

“Kazuki.”

“Kazuki: How is yours?”

_ There’s the spiteful and inappropriate! _

Nagisa scrambles over to usher Karma away from his desk. “Okay! Okay!” He says. “No more questions about sex! Not until that unit!  _ Let’s work on our vocab!” _

To his credit, Kazuki doesn’t ask about their sex life again.

Karma continues to pester the students. Eventually, Nagisa begins to lose interest, only paying half attention to make sure he behaves as he gets to know the kids. But he quickly looks up from his grading when he hears a certain name.

“And you are?”

“Makoto!”

Now _ that  _ has his attention. 

Karma gives him an impressed look. “You’re the little scamp who fleeced Nagisa day one, yeah?”

Makoto nods proudly. “Yep!” he boasts.

“Congrats. You’re the first to pull that off, you know. He was totally embarrassed.”

_ Was not! _ Nagisa thinks. Once he’d gotten over his initial shock, he was all sorts of proud. But seeing the way Makoto's face lights up, he figures he’ll let him believe that.

“Oh, I  _ know.  _ He tried to make up all sorts of excuses about why it didn’t count,” Makoto huffs.

“How  _ could _ he!?” Karma asks, feigning total disbelief.

“I dunno!” Makoto says, equally as taken aback.

“Well I’m gonna need to have a nice long talk with him about respecting his students,” Karma says, prompting a snicker from Makoto. Now if  _ that’s _ not a joke. Karma and he both know he spoils them a little too much. “Have you managed to pull off any more kills yet?” 

“No,” Makoto shamefully admits. “He’s good.”

How could he not be? He’d spent his youth not only seeking to succeed in pulling off the ultimate assassination, but also desperately trying to survive his own fair share of assassination attempts. After dealing with threats like Takaoka and The Second Reaper at age fifteen, a bunch of first years can hardly pose a threat. He knows equally as much about avoiding assassination as he does participating in it.

“Sure is,” Karma brags. “Bet he’s not as good as  _ me,  _ though.”

“You make that sound like an invitation,” Makoto snarks.

“Hey! We all got some  _ intense  _ training as kids. I could avoid death just as well as poor tiny Nagisa.” Of course he had to go there. “Who knows? Maybe sometime you can try to take me down.”

“Yes!”

“But first I’m afraid you’re gonna have to make more of a dent on Nagisa. I gotta keep up my impression of a hard-earned ‘final boss.’ You keep taking him out, okay? You’re the sort of kid he comes home and tells us stories about. We’re relying on you for our entertainment.”

Makoto nods firmly. “Will do!” Before holding out a hand, “It was nice meeting you, Karma.”

“And you as well, little guy.” He returns the handshake with a smile.

That’s when there’s a shriek.

* * *

Teaching is a dangerous profession. Risk of injury is just an everyday part of the job.

Okay. That’s not _super_ true. But Nagisa’s not exactly the average teacher, nor did he have an average education. His midterms and finals were laced with a sense of danger. Each and every test sandwiched in between assassination attempt after assassination attempt.

While he hasn’t exactly been murdered on the job, he’s faced his fair share of difficulties. He’s broken his ankle tripping during PE, and once received a concussion tearing apart a particularly vicious fight. His hands are littered with little nicks and scars. An even bigger scar runs down his shoulder from a since-resolved incident at Paradise. It’s not particularly odd for others to be brought into the line of fire, either. Kayano’d almost lost a finger visiting class, and Mary was nearly decapitated when a student had decided he’d had enough.

So he supposes Karma being stabbed in the thigh with a pencil isn’t particularly out there. But it  _ had  _ come out of nowhere.

They’d been hitting it off without a hitch. And then he’d lunged. Even the uncannily overprepared Karma had been taken by surprise if his scream was anything to go by.

Needless to say, Nagisa had grabbed Makoto by the wrist and dragged him out of the class. He’d put Emiko and Chiharu as class representatives in charge for the time being, and told Karma to deal with his wound while he deals with his student.

Makoto sits across from him, staring at the floor. His hands are clasped nervously over his lap, but he doesn’t say a word.

As often as its students get into trouble, Constellate technically doesn’t have an office. It’s something he’s thought over while considering expanding, but can’t quite see the point considering Constellate technically doesn’t have a headmaster either. 

...Yeah. He does things differently here. And most times he likes to believe that’s for the best. But staring down Makoto from across the desk, he must admit even he sometimes has his doubts.

Constellate doesn’t need an office. When trouble inevitably shows its head, he simply takes the kid who caused the incident into the makeshift teachers' lounge, (Also quite frankly unnecessary when he thinks about it,) and talks calmly.

This time will be no different.

“Makoto. What happened?”

Makoto shuffles antsily, still firmly refusing to make eye contact. Finally, he says “I just felt like it.”

Well isn’t that enlightening?

Nagisa sighs and steeples his fingers, pushing back the twinge of irritation in his gut. Teaching isn’t always as easy as it looks.

Kids are difficult to work with. They’re impulsive and they’re difficult and they’re avoidant. But he’s dealt with his fair share of students before, and if there’s one thing he learned, it’s that they always,  _ always _ have their reasons.

Makoto’s no different.

Nagisa leans closer. He takes a deep breath. “I’m not going to yell at you,” He says. “I just want to know what made you feel that way.”

“I saw the opportunity and I took it.”

They’re walking in circles here.

The way Makoto says it is particularly cold. Enough to make Nagisa doubt Makoto’s the sincerity of Makoto's personality for a moment. But reflecting on his conversation with Makoto about why he'd chosen his friends, he doesn’t have the heart to see him as anything but kind-hearted. It’s too soon to peg him as simply _ violent.  _ Nagisa had had his own bloodlust in his youth, after all. And while ‘I saw an opportunity and I took it’ isn’t exactly how he would have worded it, that's beside the point.

What stops him in his tracks most, however, is that he hadn’t suspected a thing of Makoto until this moment. 

Well, that’s a fat lie as well. He’s suspected a  _ lot _ of things about Makoto, a massive, Korosensei shaped suspicion among those. But he’d never suspected bloodlust. 

He usually has a pretty good handle on this stuff. Sure, Makoto’d had a prowess for assassination, but Nagisa’d mistaken it as the simple enthusiasm he seems to have for everything. The way Makoto had retained his easygoing smile throughout the entire ordeal… It’s… Ugh. It reminds him of himself.

But that’s only a reason to give him stronger support! Not to shun him.

“What opportunity?” he repeats, attempting to muster as much patience as he can.

“I dunno how to word it,” Makoto says, shrugging. “He just leaned in REAL close, and I suddenly thought  _ ‘this is my chance!’” _

Nagisa blinks.

“His guards were down. And I didn’t have time to reach for my knife! And he SORTA gave me permission, so I didn’t see why not.”

...Permission. Nagisa’s not sure he’d call it  _ that, _ but he supposes Karma had egged Makoto on. “I… Guess,” he says. “But-”

“And he was picking on Kiyoshi. Which was SUPER mean.”

“He and Kiyoshi are very close, Mak-”

“And, I dunno! I just wanted to.” He’s speaking up before even giving Nagisa a chance to finish. It’s clear he feels the need to justify himself, even if said justifications are... Unorthodox. He has to feel at least a little guilty. “...You wouldn’t get it.”

“...You don’t know that. What kind of ‘wanted to?’”

“I dunno,” He seems to be falling back on that phrase a lot right now. “Do you ever, like, think about doing something you really shouldn’t do? And… You just keep thinking about it?  I dunno. It’s dumb and scary.”

Nagisa gets it. At least, he sort of does. While at first it could easily be pegged as Chuunibyou fantasies, his youth was littered with all sorts of irrationally violent thoughts. Even before Korosensei showed up. Thoughts that had convinced him he was deeply irredeemable and dangerous. A person predestined to hurt people. A natural born killer. 

With time, and with therapy, and before any of that: Support from Korosensei, he’d realized none of that defined him. And even that his psyche was not warped and cruel in the first place. That it had merely been marred by his upbringing and his anxieties filling his mind with terrifying impulses. He’s learned how to control them and subdue them, realizing he’s just as nonviolent as anyone else, even in spite of the blaring alarm in his head demanding he clap-stun Makoto right this moment for even daring to lay a finger on his husband.

...It’s not _ scary.  _ It’s  _ sad.  _

“No. I get it, Makoto,” he admits. “But you can’t just act on those thoughts.” It turns out invasivity and impulsivity make for a pretty unpleasant combination, particularly in a twelve-year-old with all the self-discipline of a goddamn freight train.

“...It’s not like I’d act on the big ones,” Makoto says. “It’s not like I aimed for his jugular.” He pauses, seeming to seriously consider that thought. “I totally could have aimed for his jugular.”

Nagisa frowns. “Okay, no. _ Don’t _ do that,” he says. “But you can’t act on any dangerously impulsive thoughts, Makoto. You could have really hurt him.” And he had hurt him. His feelings, surely, more than anything. Now that’s one way to get a bruise on your pride.

“I just said I wouldn’t have _ really  _ hurt him,” Makoto huffs.

“But you could have by accident. What if you’d hit a vein?” Nagisa refutes.

Makoto’s quiet.

Nagisa knows he wasn’t being malicious. That much is clear. He’d had a dumb thought and acted on it because he thought he’d be rewarded or find humor in it. But that hadn’t made hearing Karma’s scream any less terrifying.

“Sorry,” Makoto finally mumbles.

“It’s okay,” Nagisa replies. “Karma will be fine.” He’s weathered much worse. 

“...Alright,” Makoto says, before hesitating. “And you promise you’re not mad at me?”

Nagisa places a reaffirming hand on the table. “I would never.”

“And you don’t think I’m scary? Or bad?”

“No, Makoto.” He’s seen far worse. “I think you just need some help.”

“...Even if I have thoughts like that a lot?”

“Even if you have thoughts like that a lot.” Any other answer would be nothing short of hypocrisy. Looking at Makoto from across the table, he sees someone he knows all too well. “I promise I can help. We’ll work on making sure you’ll never feel like you need to do something like this again.”

“I won’t-” Makoto says firmly.

Which only leaves one more difficult topic to breach.

“Okay. And I hope you won’t mind me having you sit out of assassinations for a bit.”

Makoto jolts. “Hey! No!” He cries. “That’s no fair-! You just said you weren’t mad at me!”

“It won’t be permanent.”

“But you can’t just do that! You should have given me a warning!” Makoto whines. A warning before what!? Makoto went in for the ‘kill!?’ Nagisa hadn’t anticipated a thing! “Like a three strikes and you’re out thing!” 

Nagisa shakes his head. “No, Makoto.”

He doesn’t particularly like the idea of corporal punishment, all things considered. But this is different. Makoto needs to know he just can’t get away with his actions scot-free. The moment someone takes advantage of others ‘just because they can’ is the moment they lose track of their own strength. If this is truly bloodlust, Nagisa needs time to cull it and offer Makoto support. He can’t risk it. Not with that sort of thing.

“C’mon! Just a second chance! I won’t let you down!”

“Makot-"

“He was so  _ smug! _ Did you see the way he was looking at us!? He threw a textbook in the trash! He was so mean to Kiyoshi! And he’s dressed up all pretentious! You gotta admit he sort of deserved to be stabbed, don’t you!?”

Before Nagisa can disagree, the door creaks open. Karma peeks his head in. “What’s this about ‘deserving to be stabbed?’”

Makoto lets out an equally embarrassed and indignant yelp. 

Karma invites himself into the room. He seems no worse for wear, minus a barely-noticeable hole bored in his pants. Nagisa doesn’t spot blood. He figures Karma probably cleaned the injury quickly and bandaged it up underneath his clothes.

It’s a relief to see him okay.

Makoto pulls his legs up on his chair, sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees. He doesn’t look Karma’s way.

“You really got me good,” Karma says, strutting up behind him.

Makoto perks up in an instant. “Really?”

“Don’t encourage him!” Nagisa says in disbelief.

“Yeah, really, “Karma says, completely ignoring Nagisa. “I didn’t expect a thing. Who knows what kind of damage you could have wrought?”

“Karma-” Nagisa repeats.

“What?” Karma asks. “You’re his teacher. You should be thrilled I’m giving him encouragement. Isn’t it your job to, like, help him blossom and shit?”

“I am begging you to encourage him on literally anything other than that. I can’t let this happen again.” 

“Okay, okay,” Karma relents. “This is where I, the mature and responsible adult here need to stop being the bane of Nagisa’s existence and remind you that stabbing people is bad. Don’t actually do it again.” He leans in and stage whispers. “You still stabbed me real good, though.”

If Karma doesn’t get himself under control in five fucking seconds, Nagisa’s pretty sure _ he’s  _ gonna end up stabbing Karma.

Makoto giggles. “...So you’re not mad at me, Karma?”

“Nah,” Karma says. “Who knows? Maybe you’ve got a bit of a penchant for this kind of thing. Want me to teach you how to knock someone out in a single hit sometime?” He pauses. “Or how to deliberately not knock someone out so you can extend their suffe-”

**_“Karma!”_ **

Karma snickers. “I’m fucking with you, I’m fucking with you,” He says. “Don’t do that. Y’know. Unless you really need to. But yeah, we’re cool”

“Even though I called you a smug asshole who deserved to be stabbed?”

“ _ Especially  _ because you called me a smug asshole who deserved to be stabbed.”

Makoto grins wickedly. “I like this guy!”

Nagisa’s suddenly terrified of the combination he’s created. Like Pop Rocks and Diet Coke, something tells him these two are a concoction that will only wreak destruction if they’re in the same room for more than fifteen seconds at a time.

So, y’know, like Karma and every single malicious preteen on the planet.

It’s only after fist-bumping Karma that Makoto leans back in his chair and returns to his dispute. “See? Karma’s not even mad. So I should be able to assassinate you.”

“No,” Nagisa repeats. This is the part where he should say something about a valuable learning experience, but he knows Makoto would only parrot it back at him with twisted meaning. “It’s to help you learn you can’t do things ‘just because,’ especially when it’s ‘just because’ you have the high ground against someone. You might think it’s stupid, but I bet next time you want to do something impulsive, you’ll think about this.”

Makoto seems to mull that over.

“Plus, it won’t be completely boring. You can keep Fumiko company while you’re sitting out, okay? I bet she’d really appreciate it.”

He hesitates, before nodding.  “Okay,” he finally says. “I hadn’t even thought of that-” And Nagisa is sure glad he  _ had _ thought of it. If he hadn’t, he could have been here arguing with Makoto all day.

“Thank you for working with me,” Nagisa says. “We’ll get things worked out, okay?”

“Okay,” Makoto repeats.

Nagisa smiles, stands, and stretches. “Let’s get back to class, then, okay? No use in wasting any more time.” 

Makoto jumps onto his feet. “Will you be coming too, Karma?”

“Nah,” Karma admits, shrugging. “I think I’ve had enough of being maimed for one day.” Makoto shoots him a wounded look, but the moment he sees Karma’s shit-eating grin it fades. “I’ve  _ technically  _ got more work to do. But tell ‘em all about how badly I was mutilated, okay? Tell all the kids I was rushed to the hospital and they don’t know if I’ll make it.”

“I am not doing that,” Nagisa says.

“I am!” Makoto ever-so-helpfully disagrees.

Karma dramatically wipes his forehead, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s already been… Infected, Doctor,” he says in his best fake-nurse voice. “He’ll have to receive a Tetanus shot right this instant.” He pauses. “Wait - Fuck. Do I actually need a Tetanus shot?” he asks, belated bewilderment in his voice.

“I’d go to the doctor just in case,” Nagisa says.

“Great. Look what you made me have to do,” Karma whines at Makoto. “Little demon.”

Makoto’s taking it in stride by now. He’s starting to get the hang of how Karma ticks. He cheekily sticks his tongue out. “Sorry, looks like you’re gonna need to get stabbed again!” he says. “Actually, sorry, too, though. Needles suck.”

“Eh. I think I’ll survive,” Karma says, yawning. “Be seeing you around, kiddo. From one little demon to another, I can’t wait to see what you pull next.” With that, he flashes a lazy peace sign, whirls around, and begins to make his exit.

Not before Nagisa grabs him by the back of his shirt. “Forgetting something?” he asks, a smug intonation in his voice.

“Shit. Sure am,” Karma says. “But do I really wanna get sappy in front of the kid?”

“No! No! I don’t mind!” Makoto shouts. “Get sappy in front of me! Get sappy in front of me!” It’s practically a demand. 

_ “Aw hell,” _ Karma relents, before pulling Nagisa in for a kiss. He wraps his arm comfortingly around his back. 

...Makoto’s still ‘d’awwing’ when they pull away.

“There you go, loverboy,” Karma says, face still flushed as he turns away. “Seeya at home.” And with that, he’s gone.

Makoto must notice the mushy grin on Nagisa’s face, because he lets out another delighted, “AWWWWWW.” It’s almost intimidating, having a child stare at him with all the delighted intensity of a mother who just heard her son got a boyfriend.

He herds Makoto back to the classroom with a smile on his face. As much as Karma can yank on his chain sometimes, they mesh well for a reason. He makes him  _ happy.  _

And, hey, intentionally or not, Karma had managed to put Nagisa’s internal debate to rest. There’s nothing else to think over. Korosensei wouldn’t have done that.

...Would he?

No. He wouldn’t have done that.

He recalls the equally as dirty and equally as ‘polite’ trick Karma had pulled on Korosensei the first time they’d met.

...Would he?

No. He wouldn’t have done that. Korosensei was a lot of things, but vengeful was none of them.

Makoto proudly brags to his friends about “All the blood” Karma had had “Pouring from him” across the room.

Korosensei as a _ twelve-year-old boy, _ however?

_...Would he!? _

No. He wouldn’t have.

...Would h-

* * *

That thought goes on for a while.

They end up arriving home around the same time. It’s not intentional, but it’s a pleasant surprise to meet up with him again. Nagisa fumbles for his keys and unlocks the door. 

Needless to say, Karma’s first words when he walks in the house are “I got stabbed today!”

Gakushuu, sitting on the couch, is staring at him like he grew a second head. “You  _ what!?” _ he sputters, slamming his book on the table and rushing to his feet. He freezes halfway to Karma’s side. “Wait. Is this, like, an actual stabbing, or is this a Nagisa saying ‘I got blew up today’ stabbing?” he skeptically asks.

“Actual sta-”

“Bit of both,” Nagisa interjects. “Don’t worry. It's a… Bit of both.” He breathlessly reassures, elbowing Karma’s arm.

“Okay. Just tell me if he’s actually hurt-”

“He’ll be fine,” Nagisa says. “A kid just poked him with a pencil today.” Certainly underplaying the panic he’d felt when it had gone down, but Karma’s making it sound like his leg has been sawn off.

“Oh, good,” Gakushuu says, promptly sitting his ass back down and picking his book back up. “I can go back to not giving a shit.”

Karma pouts and rushes over to his side. “Awww, c’mon! Don’t you want to see?” he asks, placing his foot on the couch.

“Not particularly.”

Karma pulls up his pant leg anyway. He’s bandaged the entire injury up excessively. Something tells Nagisa he just wants something to tell stories about it. It’s not exactly like he can get in  _ actual _ fights anymore.

Gakushuu doesn’t give it a second glance. Or a first glance, for that matter.

“Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to kiss it better!?” Karma indignantly asks.

Gakushuu doesn’t dignify him with a response.

That’s where Karma, like any responsible adult, slumps onto the couch, practically crushing Gakushuu in the process. 

“Nagissssaaaaaa,” he whines. “Gakushuu doesn’t love meeeeeeeee.” 

“That’s not true!” Gakushuu hisses, desperately attempting to push Karma off of him.

“But isn’t it?” Karma melodramatically asks. He doesn’t budge an inch. “Gakushuu  _ hates  _ me.”

“Yes! Right now I do!” It’s considerably hard to ‘manhandle’ Karma away from him, considering he has a solid five inches on Gakushuu. 

_ “I’m in a loveless marriage…”  _ Karma continues to wistfully monologue.

“My ass!” Gakushuu refutes.

“Then say it!”

Gakushuu continues to elbow and kick at Karma, resembling a particularly rabid cat more than a billionaire CEO. “Karma!”

_ “Say it!” _ Karma eggs.

Gakushuu writhes and squirms.

“Okay! I love you! I love you!  _ I love you, I love you, I love you!"  _ he shrieks. "Will you **_can it!?”_ **

That’s when Gakushuu manages to successfully knock Karma off of him, namely because falls off the couch and sends them both tumbling to the floor.

They lie dazed on the ground for a moment, before Karma pushes himself to his knees. He sorely rubs his elbow. He and Gakushuu stare at each other, silent. 

“Well, that hurt!” he finally says.

“You think  _ you’re  _ hurt? I think I threw out my back,” Gakushuu mutters, sitting up.

Karma grins.

“...Want me to kiss it better?” 

Gakushuu finally loses it. A smile peeks through his cold-faced facade. He “snerks,” before bursting out into full-on laughter. “Absolutely not!” he says, hauling himself back up onto the couch.

And despite his complaints, that spark of amusement in his eyes never fades, even as he regains his composure. When Karma takes a seat next to him, he doesn’t even boot him from the couch. Whether out of their deep love or simple appreciation that Karma’s using the couch as intended instead of as a way to smother him is left unclear.

“Look what you did. You made me lose my page,” he grumbles, reaching for his book.

Nagisa, however, has no time for their delightful antics.

There’s more important things on his mind.

No sooner than he starts to leave the room does Karma speak up. “You really gonna pass up an opportunity to spoon?” he asks.

Nagisa shrugs. “I’m not feeling too well,” he admits. It’s not entirely untrue. “I’ll be back later, you needy asshole,” he jokes, giving Karma a smug smile before making his retreat.  

Kayano’s not home. She still must be at a shoot. He can’t help but curse at that. This is a topic he’d actually  _ really _ like to touch on with her right now. 

He enters their room and flops down on the bed. For a moment he considers scavenging the closet for Karma’s self-help book, but quickly decides against it. For one, that seems like a blatant invasion of his privacy. For two, Karma’s self-help book is equally as thick as his own. It could take months to truly dissect. And for three, if Korosensei truly had any remaining grudge against Karma, he doubts he’ll find it voiced in that book. That book is more likely filled with advice such as “Karma, don’t do that,” and “Karma, stop.”

He hears something thump onto the ground downstairs and rolls his eyes.

_“Karma, stop.”_ Indeed.

He knows more than anything he should just call a family meeting and breach the topic to all of them. But he can just imagine the condescending look on Karma’s face. “Karma, don’t do that.” he notes, rolling over.

He’d meant what he’d said to Kayano. He can’t risk getting their hopes up. But, well, shit - He’d already gone and gotten her hopes up, hadn’t he? Is he being unfair? If so, to _ who? _

He must admit, despite any skepticism, it’s a nice thought. One that crosses his mind each time he sees Makoto dart across the classroom, or laugh at his own shitty joke. Maybe it’s what he deserves. And maybe this time, they can finally get it right.

He’s the teacher here. He has the power to help him before anything goes wrong. What went down today proves that much. He has the power to help all of these kids before anything goes wrong. And, hell, Korosensei or not, changing someone's life is a pretty nice thought.

Something tells him Makoto won’t be hurting anyone again anytime soon. And that's an even nicer thought.

* * *

...He doesn’t even realize he’s dozed off until he feels someone gently shaking his shoulder.

Dazed and drooling, Nagisa disorientedly rubs at his eyes. “Wh-?”

“Dinner’s ready,” Gakushuu says. 

Nagisa groggily blinks. “O… Oh,” he says, sitting up. He quickly realizes he doesn’t even know how long he’s been asleep. “...What time is it?” he asks.

“Half past Seven,” Gakushuu curtly replies. “You really meant it when you said you were feeling unwell, huh?”

“...Yeah,” Nagisa admits. “I had a long day at school.” And a lot on his mind.

“I can imagine,” Gakushuu says. “What even happened with the menace?” 

It takes Nagisa a moment to process who he’s talking about. “I told you: A kid prodded him.” He pauses. “Where _ is _ the menace, anyways?”

“Ready to eat,” Gakushuu says. “Come on.”

Nagisa hesitates. “Is Kayano home yet?”

“Not yet.”

Nagisa sighs. It seems even a nap hasn’t gotten his mind off things. He doesn’t motion to stand.

Gakushuu turns. “I’ll meet you in the kit-”

“Wait. Can we…” Nagisa pauses. “Can we talk, actually?”

Gakushuu stops midstep and looks over his shoulder. He gives Nagisa a perturbed look. “Your dinner’s going to get cold.” 

“I know,” Nagisa admits. “But… But something’s been bothering me.” He bites his lip. “Please?”

...He can tell Gakushuu, he tells himself. Gakushuu was never close to his late teacher. He’d never even met the man. There’s nothing to lose.

Gakushuu sighs and returns to the bed, plopping down next to Nagisa. “What is it?” He asks, frowning deeply.

“It’s about Karma getting stabbed,” Nagisa admits, sitting up. “...Some stuff’s been on my mind. I’ve already talked to Kayano about it, but…” He drifts off. “I dunno. I don’t feel right hiding anything from you. And I feel like you can point me in the right direction. I mean, you’re smart, right?”

Gakushuu cocks an eyebrow. “I’d  _ hope so?  _ In fact, I’m deeply insulted by my husband insinuating he has any doubts as to the validity of that statement.” He cracks a smug (And equally as exhausted) smile. “Sure. Let’s talk about Karma getting stabbed. It’s my favorite topic, I’ll have you know.”

His reaction upon first hearing of Karma’s injury earlier would suggest otherwise, but considering how graciously he’s willing to hear out Nagisa’s crackpot conspiracy theory, Nagisa will let that one slide.

He takes a deep breath. In… And out. How can he best possibly explain what’s going through his mind? The rationale behind his last hope? How can he put into words the minuscule breadcrumbs that seem to suggest something so cosmically earth-shattering as Korosensei's return to the supergenius that is Gakushuu Asano?

“I think it was revenge.”

_ Okay. So  _ **_that_ ** _ wasn’t any of the intelligent banter he was aiming for.  _

Gakushuu just about chokes. “E-Excuse me!? What the hell did Karma do to piss off a twelve-year old that badly?” He pauses, letting that sentence sink in. “Other than everything, I mean.”

“Okay. No, no, no. Not like that-” Nagisa quickly corrects. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds--” he protests. But his shoulders quickly sink. “...It’s… Crazier, actually,” he solemnly admits. “Some really strange stuff has been happening in my classroom, Gakushuu.  _ Super  _ strange. And… This is just the latest incident. I  _ swear _ something is going on. But it’s going to sound weird. So please just hear me out. Please don’t think I’m crazy.”

Gakushuu firmly places a hand on Nagisa’s shoulder. “...I would never think you’re craz-”

“Korosensei’s back.”

The atmosphere in the room shifts near instantly.

_ “E-Excuse me?” _

“I know it sounds nuts-”

“It sounds a little more than nuts-”

“You just said you wouldn’t call me crazy!”

“And I thought you were gonna, like, talk about Karma cyberbullying a middle schooler! Not  _ that!” _

“Just listen to me-” Nagisa says.  _ “...Please.” _

Gakushuu’s quiet. The desperation in Nagisa’s voice is loud and clear. “...I’m listening.” 

Gakushuu’s gaze is piercing. Nagisa feels a little sick. “...I don’t think he, like, faked his death, of course-” Nagisa quickly clarifies. “He would never.” He’d loved them far, far too much to have put them through something like that. “...I think he’s been reincarnated. Which I know sounds ridiculous--”

“Just a tad. Since when were you a born-again Buddhist?”

“I’m  _ not.  _ But unless this kid is a  _ mind reader, _ I don’t know what other explanation there could possibly be!” He clasps his gently shaking hands together. “The boy in my class, the one who stabbed Karma: He knows things he has no way of finding out. The way he went after Karma was  _ exactly _ like what Karma pulled on Korosensei when he first met him. He turned in an essay with an inside joke that  _ never  _ left the E-Class. How he bombed me, even! Terasaka goaded me into doing exactly that back when I first met Korosensei-!”

“This is Makoto you’re talking about?” Gakushuu’s heard his fair share about the elusive boy.

“...Yeah. It’s Makoto,” Nagisa admits. “But it’s not even just events. It’s everything about the way he carries himself. I hear his laugh and I think I’m losing my mind-”

Gakushuu opens his mouth to respond to that, but nothing comes out. He sighs. “...You can chalk all of that up to coincidence, Nagisa.”

_ “Can you?” _ Nagisa asks, indignance in his voice. “Ritsu scoured the web.  _ Nothing.” _

“You told Ritsu?”

“...Yes,” Nagisa says. “And now I’m telling you-”

“And you’re saying you’ve brought this up to Kayano?”

“Yes-”

“Does  _ she  _ believe you?”

Nagisa’s silent.

“...I see,” Gakushuu comments.

“Okay! Maybe not yet! But it’s complicated!” Nagisa refutes. “She said she’d support me-”

“She’s probably worried sick about you!” Gakushuu snaps. “You don’t have any proof of this, Nagisa-”

“No shit! What do you want me to do? Write up a report? I’m no scientist!”

“Then call Okuda! Takebayashi!” Gakushuu dramatically throws his hands in the air. “I have Koyama’s number **_right_ ** here!” He’s already reaching for his phone. “You want me t-” 

Nagisa lowers his hand. “No. I don’t think this is the sort of thing that can be proven by science, anyways-”

“Then why did you just sa-”

“I just want  _ some _ kind of reason!”

“And you don’t have any! Why are you even telling me this? Simply because you want me to validate your opinion? I can’t do that without any  _ solid facts- _ ”

Nagisa groans in frustration, falling back on the bed and covering his face with his pillow.

“You need to understand the weight those kinds of claims carry, Nagisa. If what you’re saying were true, it would change the _ foundation  _ of our world. Think of its implications religiously! Ethically! Scientifically! Morally! You’re expecting me to go out on a limb here and listen to you make broad claims about the nature of the very  _ universe. _ ”

...Nagisa doesn’t have a response to that.

“Why are you even telling me this? Have you told Karm-”

“Because I thought you’d trust me!” Nagisa abruptly shouts. “I’m  _ so  _ sorry I wanted to try putting a little faith in my husband! I’m  _ so _ sorry I opened up to y-” 

Gakushuu flinches back.

“...Are you crying?”

...Nagisa reaches up to rub at his eye. He… Is, isn’t he?

He and Gakushuu exchange a silent look

“I’m sorry,” Gakushuu finally admits. “I didn’t realize it had escalated that far.” Nagisa notices his hand shake ever so subtly as he speaks.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have shouted,” Nagisa admits. 

Admittedly, neither of them take well to arguments. It’s just not the way they were raised. Nagisa collapses into himself, and Gakushuu ends up desperate to ‘win.’ It makes for a poor combination.

“...It’s fine,” Gakushuu says. 

But they’re working on it. At the very least, they know when to drop things.

“I know I’m getting worked up-” Nagisa sits up and scoots closer “But… Things have been crazy, lately,” he admits. “...I didn’t really expect you to believe me. If anything, I was hoping you could knock some sense into me. But that was…” he pauses. “That was really harsh.”

“...I know,” Gakushuu replies. “But you have to admit that was a lot to dump on me out of the blue.”

“...I know,” Nagisa says in turn.

“I’m sorry if it feels like I was just shooting you down. I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m worried too-! I’m really,  _ really _ scared,” Nagisa quickly realizes his voice is raising again. “...That’s why I wanted validation,” he says, quieter. “You don’t have to agree with me. But a hug would at least be nice.”

Gakushuu wraps his arms around Nagisa. “Now _that_ you could have just asked for.”

Nagisa leans into his embrace. 

“...Can we try that again?” he asks. “No arguing, this time.”

“Well I’m not just going to tell you what you want to hear, Nagisa-” Gakushuu refutes.

“I know. But just let me make my case. Let me finish.”

“...Was I speaking over you again?” Certainly. The man has a nasty habit of it.

Nagisa quietly nods.

“Okay. This time I’ll just let you talk. And this time you don’t call yourself ‘crazy’ or ‘dumb.’ You make your case and you stand by it. You don’t need to degrade yourself to get your point across.”

And he doesn’t have a competition to win. They’re on the same team.

He runs his hand through Nagisa’s hair.

...Yeah. They’re working on it.

“It’s everything about the way he carries himself. It goes beyond the coincidences themselves,” Nagisa admits. “It’s who he  _ is. _ It’s not just that he stabbed Karma. It’s that he looked at me with eyes that said ‘Look what I just did!’ It’s not just that he turned in that essay. It’s that immediately afterwards he told me he wanted to learn more about Korosensei. It’s the way he devours sweets, and how he covers his face and shrieks when he’s embarrassed. Have you ever just met someone and felt like you were looking at an old friend?”

Gakushuu contemplates that question, but has no answer. He nods for Nagisa to continue.

“I might not have proof. At least not what you would call proof. But I recorded Korosensei’s behavior for a year. His weaknesses. His quirks. What made him tick. I observed it all. And I know what I’m seeing. I’m seeing a boy who’s privy to events he has no way of knowing about. And… I’m seeing a boy who reminds me of someone I loved. A boy who laughs the same way and smiles the same way and even shrieks the same way. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to think.”

Gakushuu’s quiet. He uses his free hand to rub his chin.

“...I suppose you knew the man better than I did,” he finally admits. He’d never gotten the chance to meet Korosensei, himself. By the time he’d learned of the man giving the E-Class a much-needed push (Much to his chagrin, at the time), Korosensei had already been quarantined. Sometimes it still seems like he feels he missed out on something. 

Nagisa quietly nods. He looks Gakushuu straight in the eye. 

Gakushuu sighs. “This is… Really important to you, isn’t it?” 

Nagisa nods again. “I mean, how could it  _ not _ be…?” He asks. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that year. So seeing anything like it… I…” He drifts off. “I have to admit the thought makes me feel a bit better. Maybe… Maybe I can finally make things right.”

Gakushuu slowly pulls away. “Very well, then. I’ll let you believe whatever you want.” 

Nagisa feels a huge weight lift from his shoulders. He breathes a sigh of relief.

“I  _ won’t _ believe you blindly, much less enable you. But… I will stand by you. I’ll even assist you in recording  _ actual  _ proof of your hypothesis. Real proof. Truly inexplicable situations like the essay you mentioned.  _ Not  _ that the twelve-year-old boy likes candy or has a laugh that gives you the heebie-jeebies.”

“It doesn’t give me the heebie-jeebies-” Nagisa interjects.

“Or has a laugh that reminds you of a dead man. Better?” Gakushuu doesn’t bother to pause. “I’ll be there for you.  _ However,  _ the moment this negatively affects your mental health or you breathe a word of this to the kid, I step in.” And with the grave tone in his voice, Nagisa knows he means it.

“...Okay,” Nagisa replies. “Sounds good.” 

He’s already made careful consideration in regards to not telling Makoto. And as for his rapidly deteriorating mental health, that’s sort of always standing on shaky legs, but he appreciates Gakushuu’s concern.

They’re silent.

“And so you’re not telling Karma?” Gakushuu finally asks.

“...No,” Nagisa admits. He averts his gaze.

“Good call,” Gakushuu bluntly replies.

Now if  _ that  _ isn’t the exact opposite of Kayano’s reaction. He can’t help but feel a tad offended for Karma’s sake.

“...Gakushuu,” He says, knowing full well he’s a goddamn hypocrite. The sharpness in Gakushuu’s voice just rubs him the wrong way.

“Listen. I love Karma more than life itself. But Karma is also an asshole who just spent all afternoon pushing me off the couch. He’s not really the sort of person to talk to about this sort of thing.” He pauses and taps his temple. “At least not until you can definitively prove your thesis.”

Nagisa supposes he doesn’t have the energy to debate that one.

“Okay. C’mon.” Gakushuu stands. “Nice talk, but I bet now our dinner is  _ really _ cold.” 

Nagisa chuckles. “Oh gosh. I bet it is.” He stretches as he stands and awkwardly scratches his back. “Look at what we did.”

“What you did,” Gakushuu quips.

“...Thanks for talking to me, Gakushuu.”

“No worries,” Gakushuu replies. “I’d argue it’s just part of the job description, being your husband and all.” He pauses. “Plus, you’ve always done the same for me.”

“And- Uh - I’m sorry again about shouting earlier.”

“Don’t overthink it. Me too. Now get in the kitchen before I have something to _ really _ be upset over.”

Gakushuu makes his exit, and Nagisa follows in suit.

Karma’s clearly been waiting. He has his feet kicked up on the table.

“You realize we’re  _ eating  _ on that, right?” Gakushuu gripes, pushing his legs off of the table.

“Well greetings and good evening to you too, my loving husband,” he snarks in response. That said, he does keep his appendages to himself. “Your dinner’s cold, by the way,” he says. “What were you doing in there? Did you join Nagisa in his catnap, or were you sneaking in a little quickie without me?”

Gakushuu sputters. “Absolutely not!”

“Awwww. What? Can’t have a good time without me?”

Nagisa quickly pulls in his seat. “Nah. We were just having a talk about some stuff. You don’t have to make everything weird.”

“Not with that attitude.”

Gakushuu groans and pulls in his own seat.

Karma’s right. Their food is cold. But Nagisa figures he’ll survive. It’s a few minutes into his meal when he hears the door unlock.

“I’m home!”

Kayano. Oh… That’s convenient. Something tells him he should have just waited to talk to her about this, but another part of him is glad he told Gakushuu. They’re all working on this together after all, aren’t they?

Which only leaves one more difficult conversation to be had.

Karma excitedly waves her over. And as Kayano makes her way in from the living room, he enthusiastically leans over on the table and boastfully shouts.

_ “Guess who got stabbed today!?”  _

Oh for fuck’s sake!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter six! Chapter six!
> 
> Karma time, babey! And not just because of his prelevance in the chapter. But ALSO because he got what was coming to him. Love me those double meanings, haha.
> 
> This chapter was suppeeerrr fun to write. I love Karma's banter. He's hands down easily one of the most fun characters to write, and I'm glad I got to showcase him and Gakushuu a bit more in this chapter, alongside Makoto, even if characters like Kiyoshi, Kayano and Fumiko ended up taking the back seat for a bit. (Haha I'm just now realizing this is the first chapter in a while entirely from Nagisa's perspective. Don't worry, in the next chapter we'll be getting some other POVs ;) )
> 
> But it seems Makoto is more troubled than either he or Nagisa initially let on, huh? It's okay. Nagisa will try his best to be there for him, even if his batshit crazy actions are only making Nagisa's life ten times harder considering they're only spurring on his crazy conspiracy theories.
> 
> I'm glad to write Nagisa finally opening up to Gakushuu. And that they found some sort of resolution. If you can't tell by now, I'm definitely not trying to milk big arguments for drama. Even if Nagisa and his spouses disagree on things, they're ultimately there for each other, and as grownass adults know when to drop things. They're decently emotionally responsible, and I'm proud of them for that. But if confronting Kayano went decently... And confronting Gakushuu went decently... Hoo boy... What's gonna happen when he confronts the elusive KARMA? If he's even brave enough to at all.
> 
> Special thanks to the 3-E Headcanons Discord group for helping me figure out how to have Karma describe what being a bureaucrat is and coming up w that clever joke. Because LORD knows I don't know what a bureaucrat does. I was THIS close to heading over to /r/explainlikeimfive and ask there, haha.
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were First Date's In Love With You, Imagine Dragon's Polaroid, Noah and The Whale's Five Years Time, Barenaked Ladies' One Week (Karashuu at its finest ahaha), Next To Normal's He's Not Here, and Lenka's Dont Let Me Fall. Give em a listen!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and make sure to let me know what you thought! W summer coming up I'm going to have more and more time for writing soon, so prepare for even more updates! And buckle in. Because things are only going to get more in depth as the chapters continue.


	7. Trust Time

...Makoto Himura is an enigma.

Like, the more Fumiko sees him, the less she understands him.

He’s brash, but he’s considerate. He’s dauntless, but easily embarrassed. He makes her laugh, and he makes her want to sock him in the face. He’s surprisingly clever, and he’s climbing the school building.

He’s attempting to scamper up the side of the worn-down schoolhouse, one foot planted firmly on the windowsill and an outstretched hand reaching for the roof of the doorway. 

“You’re going to break your neck,” Fumiko comments.

“Sounds fun!” 

She rolls her eyes and turns her head, but never quite averts her gaze.

...How could she? This is far too weird. 

Makoto’s been stuck with her during PE for a three unceremonious days now after his little stunt in English. The first day he’d bombarded her nonstop with conversation. The second day he’d snuck in a fistful of Pokemon cards _ and  _ bombarded her with nonstop conversation. And the third day he’s decided to try impromptu parkour, nonstop conversation ever-so-graciously included in some sort of surrealist package deal.

“This is a lot harder than it looks!” he comments, scraping a foot against the window. 

She figures it’s just about as difficult as it looks (Very, for the record,) but knows by now it’s not worth it to debate with him. 

“I’m not sure what you expected,” she says, instead. “Why are you doing this again?”

He shrugs. “Bored,” he simply comments, feeling no need for further clarification. 

...That’s about what she expected.

She has to admit, at first she was slightly intimidated to be benched alongside him after what he did to Nagisa’s husband. But she quickly realized that had to have been a fluke. Because he’s as harmless as ever. The same dumb jokes and senseless banter. Watching him flounder in a desperate attempt to make it onto the roof only seals her doubt. He’s more likely to suddenly transform into a straight-laced and serious straight-A student than he is to stab her.

She knows her parents would have an aneurysm if they found out she was hanging with such a lowlife. If they hear a word of this, she’s in for a massive punishment. On one hand, she understands their perspective. He’s an impulsive and grimy stubborn delinquent with a history of violence. He’s not exactly prime friend material.

But there’s one thing she's discovered about Makoto Himura that they would never notice.

He heaves himself up onto the roof of the doorway.

He can accomplish most anything he sets his mind out to do.

She scoots away from the stairway and out from under the cover of the doorway. Partially to get a better look at Makoto’s latest stunt, mostly to avoid being crushed when he inevitably caves the overhang in.

He stands tall, cupping his hand above his eye and dramatically looking back and forth.

“I can see everything up here!” he declares proudly. 

“I highly doubt that,” she replies.

“I can too!” he huffs. “I can give a full report…!” He leans forward, dangerously close to slipping and cracking his goddamn head open. “Yes, yes…” he comments with a wide smile, putting on his best sports announcer voice. “There I can see Hachirou making a strike at Nagisa with his patented Hachirou Spin technique.”

_ “He doesn’t have that.”  _

“He does now!” 

Hachirou is the most boring person she knows. (With Kiyoshi as a persistent runner-up.) When he manages to patent a  _ spin kick _ she’ll eat her own shoe.

“Nagisa makes a swift block with his right elbow! And swerves out of the way! But  _ what’s this!?  _ Chiharu’s behind him! How will he ever evade this brilliant plan!? _ He ducks and he rolls!” _ He’s shouting at this point. Fumiko wants to find it dumb, but she’s already stifling snickers.

“He’s back on his feet! And he’s triumphant! Rosey rushes in, and with a well ti-  **_SHE BIT HIM!?”_ ** He drops the act in a millisecond. “Hey! No fair! I want to bite him! Why didn’t I think of that first!?”

Ew. Ew. Ew. Fumiko hates other middle schoolers sometimes.

She can see Nagisa down the field reprimanding Rosey with a composure she can’t possibly imagine keeping if someone bit her. 

“...Okay. That’s interesting and all, but I could actually see all of that from down here.” As much as she wishes she didn’t. “Got any sights I can’t see up there, or did you do all that for nothing?”

Makoto huffs and cranes his head. “I have such a good view of the mountainside! I can see the trees and the forest and the-”

“Can see all of that, too,” she interrupts.

“Oh yeah!? Well, I bet your view isn’t as good as mine!” He cheekily sticks his tongue out. And he even quiets down as he looks out over the horizon. “...You can see the whole world from up here.”

“The whole world?” she skeptically asks.

He’s uncharacteristically silent. There’s this weird look in his eyes. She nearly asks him if he’s alright, but he returns to his usual chipper self before she gets the chance.

“Eh! The whole school. Close enough,” he cheerfully pipes up. “Everyone looks like little ants from up here. Even Nagisa! It’s cool. I feel like a king up here.” He glances to his side. And his eyes seem to lock onto something. His smile quickly shifts into a wicked grin. “Plus, can you do  _ THIS _ down there?”

In an instant he’s up on the actual roof, darting alongside its steep slope. Fumiko jolts and scrambles to her feet.

“What are you  _ doing!?”  _

“Gonna jump on the shed!” he admits, never once slowing down. 

She finds herself chasing after him. The worn-down wood of the roof creaks under his shoes. 

“Oh my God! You’re really going to break your neck now!” she shouts in disbelief.

“Nah!”

“You’re gonna put a hole in the ceiling!”

“Am not!”

She quickly glances between him and the rest of the class. “I’m telling Shiota-sensei!”

“Don’t you dare!”

Before she can protest one second more he makes the leap. Her heart stops in her chest as he flies through the air. And he comes tumbling onto the shed with a loud ‘thump.’

He lays still.

She stares, breaths ragged and panicked.

He bolts to his feet with a triumphant cheer. “That was  _ awesome!”  _ he proclaims, pumping his fists in the air.

She breathlessly sputters for breath. “What is _ wrong _ with you!?” 

He must spot the abject horror on her face. He bursts out into giggles. “You were actually worried, weren’t you!? You really do care!”

Her worry is quickly replaced with indignation. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell Shiota-sensei that the imbecile went and maimed himself!”

Makoto seems unbothered by her sharp words. He quickly hops off the side of the shed. 

“Are you finally done acting like a maniac?”

“Nope! Just can’t get back up on the school from there. Even I know that’s too high of a jump.”

Fumiko stares in disbelief. “You’re getting back up on the school!? Why!?”

“I told you: Bored!”

This time he scales it with no trouble. He’s seemed to have learned from his last climbing misadventure.

He plops down, legs dangling from the roof of the doorway. Then he scoots over and makes a beckoning motion. “You should join me up here!”

She does a double take “Absolutely not!”

“Awwww! C’mon! Why not!?” he asks, shoulders slumped.

“Because it’s idiotic! It’s dangerous! It’s pointless!” 

Makoto cocks an eyebrow. “I see. I see,” he says, nodding sagely. There’s a smug intonation to his voice. “I get it.”

“You see?” she asks, annoyed.

“I see it clear as day! You’re just too scared!”

Fumiko feels irritation rise in her gut. “I am not!” She refutes.

“Are too!” He says, looking down on her with a shit-eating grin. “Whatever! Whatever! More room for me!”

He stretches and leans back against the building, making himself comfortable. That wide smile of his never once falters. And she must admit, that’s what makes her snap.

She grabs at the windowsill. 

He’s right. He looks like a king up there, content and triumphant. He seems so happy. So free, so unchained; Held down by nothing. It’s no different from how he always carries himself, but she sees it more than ever with the sunlight beaming down on his face.

Oh, how she wishes she could feel like that.

She pulls herself upward and outstretches her hand towards the roof. Arms sore and breath short, she leans as far as she can. She can feel the triumph rising in her chest. Just a little further - It’s almost within her reach: A world where she doesn’t have to let herself care what others think.

_ What others think- _

She freezes up at the thought. Glances back over her shoulder, and stares at her classmates across the field. That’s all it takes. She loses her footing and comes crashing to the ground.

Now that catches Nagisa’s attention in an instant. He and the rest of the class are rushing over to her and Makoto, who leaps down from his golden throne.

“You okay!?” he asks.

She blinks, before pushing herself to her knees. “Yeah. I’m fine,” she says. She’s had the breath knocked out of her, but nothing more. “It wasn’t a bad fall.”

He offers a hand to help her to her feet. She doesn’t take it. 

“I said I’m fine,” she repeats, irritation prickling in her voice. She hurries to her feet.

Nagisa and the others have caught up with them by now. “Are you alri-” 

“Oh my God! You totally ate shit!” Matsuya shouts over him.

“Did you break anything!?” Minki demands, reaching out for an arm. (And terrifyingly enthusiastic about that concept.)

“I don’t see any blood,” Kazuzki complains.

“What is  _ WRONG _ with you people!?” Kiyoshi sputters.

“Did it hurt!?”

“Are you gonna die!?”

“Please don’t die!”

“Guys, guys-- Not now-” Nagisa interrupts, trying his best to hush them all. “Are you alright, Fumiko?” 

She feels her lip quiver. Each and every eye is on her. She hates the feeling. “I’m fine.”

“What happened?” he worriedly asks.

...She can’t find words.

It’s okay. Makoto finds them for her. “It was my idea. I was bored, so I thought it would be fun to climb on the roof!” he says as if it’s the most obvious things on the planet. “Fumiko didn’t want to, but I pressured her. I’m sorry.”

Nagisa blinks. He seems at a loss for words “You shouldn’t be climbing on the roof, either, Makoto.” He pauses and furrows his brow. “...At least not alone. If you’d like we can  _ all _ climb on the roof together sometime.”

**_Is he fucking nuts!?_ **

“AFTER I MAKE SURE IT’S SAFE-” he’s quick to comment. “UNTIL THEN, NO FURTHER CLIMBING ON THE ROOF--" he clarifies. "There are learning experiences to be found in doing stupid, dangerous things, but I’m afraid it’s my job to supervise you and make sure those stupid, dangerous things aren’t deadly.”

Makoto pouts. “O-kay.” 

...And Fumiko finally realizes now every eye is on him.

She lets out a sigh of relief.

Nagisa checks them over one more time just for good measure, but quickly learns what they already know: They’re just fine. 

The other kids are beginning to grow antsy. And Makoto must see it clear as day because he pipes up with an “Okay. You guys can get back to your murder now. We’re A-OK.”

“You sure?” Nagisa asks.

“Of course. Does this look like an injured guy to you?” He begins to dart in circles, although whether or not he’s trying to show off his relative uninjury or just exert some of that boundless energy is unclear.

“And you, Fumiko?” Nagisa asks.

“Mmm.” She reassures. “I’m alright. I’m sorry for causing a scene, Shiota-sensei.”

“Hey. It’s okay,” he reassures. “Just don’t do it again. You just about gave me a heart attack.” He pauses. “And that goes for you too, Makoto,” he says, interrupting Makoto, who’s already halfway up the building again.

He slides down with a groan. “Oooookaayyyy.” 

At this rate, Nagisa’s going to need a child leash for this kid!

Nagisa gathers the other students up and begins to make his way back across the field. But she reaches a hand out.

“Wait- Shiota-sensei-” She speaks up. 

He stops. “Huh?”

She opens her mouth to ask him if he’s not mad at her. But quickly thinks better of it. With the silent way he carries himself, his disappointment rings loud and clear. No clarification is needed.

“Nevermind,” she says. “Forget it.”

“You sure?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Certain,” she replies.

He must know better than to bother her any further, because he gives her a nod and continues on his merry way.

She sits down and sighs. She hates the way her classmates glance back over their shoulders at the two of them. Kiku whispers something to Terumi, and Nagisa has to usher a worried Kiyoshi along.

The last thing she needs is their pity, much less their scorn. She’s not some topic of discussion for those _ lowlifes! _

She feels a tad bad the moment she thinks it, but not particularly excruciatingly. It’s true, after all, isn’t it? She’s above them. What did she do to deserve to be in a class full of degenerates and dimwits?

Makoto plops down next to her, finally tuckered out from his little impromptu marathon.

_...A class where boys like him can get away with stabbing world-famous politicians.  _

And still, she can’t hate him. She wishes she _ was  _ him!

“You didn’t need to take the blame for me back there,” she finally says.

“Eh?”

“In front of Shiota-sensei. You didn’t need to say you pressured me into it.”

“I sort of  _ did,” _ he says with a shrug.

“Still. You’re sort of in hot water with him as is.”

“Exactly. Not like I can get in any more trouble with Nagisa than I already am.” 

How can he be so nonchalant about that!? His future could be on the line! 

“You really don’t care about anything, do you?” she asks.

“I try not to sweat it too much,” he admits.

_ He doesn’t even care that she… She- _

“I’m sorry I ruined your game.”

He blinks. “Hey! You didn’t ruin it! You just wanted to join in!”

“And I got scared-” 

She’s just… Not that sort of person. She should have known better than to try that. Does he know how  _ humiliating  _ it is for someone like her to be caught participating in nonsense like that? To have her classmates look down on her!? 

“Hey. There’s nothing wrong with being afraid. There’s always a next time.”

There shouldn’t be a next time! She’s better than that! This isn’t how her parents raised her!

_...Oh God. Her parents. Once they get wind of this- _

Her chest tightens.

It must show on her face, because Makoto notices in an instant.

“What’s wrong?”

She reels back and regains her composure. “Nothing’s wrong,” she quickly reassures.

“I dunno. You look pretty upset.” Makoto pauses. “Hey. It’s _okay_ that you’re still scared that you'll fall again! I fall from high places ALL the time. You get used to it.”

What is  _ wrong _ with this kid?

“No. That’s not it,” she says. “It’s not something  _ you’d _ really get.” Now that came out more bitter than intended. “It’s not something anyone in this class would get,” she tacks on.

“Hey! You don’t know that!” Makoto refutes with a huff. “Maybe I won’t know what it means or how to help. But I can listen!” He leans forward, placing his palms on the ground with determined vigor. He’s looking at her with wide eyes.

Something tells her he’s not going to take no for an answer.

“I just realized Shiota-sensei is probably going to tell my parents about what happened…” she admits.

“And they won’t think it’s cool as hell?”

“No! They won’t think it’s ‘cool as hell!’ They’re going to be so disappointed in me-”

“...But you tried something you’ve never tried before!” he argues.

“Exactly! I’m not supposed to do that, Makoto. We can’t all lead some perfect worry-free life like you,” she snaps.

Makoto’s eyes widen. His mouth hangs open, speechless, in the tiniest frown. “I…” he searches for words. “...I guess you’re right.” He says with a sad smile. But like a switch flicking on, he’s back to his usual demeanor in no-time. “Then you should try talking to Nagisa. Tell him how you feel.” That determined spark in his eyes returns.

“It’s not my place to tell a person of authority what to do,” she refutes.

He blinks. “That’s dumb.” He’s on his feet in an instant. “I’ll talk to Nagisa, then.”

She grabs his wrist in an instant. “Don’t-” she says, anger quivering in her voice.

“Why not?” he asks, tugging at his arm.

“I- He’d- It’s-” she sputters. Why doesn’t he seem to get that he’d only be digging her into a deeper hole!? Life isn’t some magical fairytale where everything can be resolved with a heart to heart talk! “Just  _ don’t. _ Please-”

He must hear the desperation in her voice, because he stops struggling. “Okay,” he says, sitting down. “But… I’d try not to worry too much, anyways. Nagisa’s not a snitch. Why would he tattle on you to your parents about something he’s planning to encourage you to do later? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Admittedly, he has a point. She lets go of his wrist.

“He’s a good guy. If you can trust anyone, I think it'd be Nagisa,” he says.

...That’s easier said than done when you live in a world like hers.

He reaches into his pocket. “Hey. No use in dwelling on any of that, right?” He says. “Wanna play more Pokemon?”

It’s not exactly proactive in regards to literally any of her issues, but who is she to say no? They’ve still got a good half-hour left in PE. It’s better than sitting around feeling sorry for herself.

“Sure.”

He slaps the cards down on the ground. “Heck yeah! Dibs on having the Zangoose this time!” 

“Whatever you say, Makoto.” 

His bright smile returns as he dishes out her set of cards. And as they play the game no doubt arbitrarily as to how the rules intended, she can’t help but feel a little sad.

If only she could be the sort of kid who climbed on rooftops, too.

* * *

Two days later, the tables turn.

It’s about 10:30 at night, and Fumiko’s half asleep when she hears a faint shouting outside her window. She groans and turns over, pulling her pillow up over her ears. Midterms start tomorrow. She doesn’t need her sleep disrupted by some stray animal or what-have-you. Her grades are miserable enough as is.

But the shouting doesn’t let up. And her tune quickly shifts when she processes it as belonging to a person.

She hurries out of bed and creeps over to the window, shoulders tense. She draws back the curtain, thrusts open the window and demands:

“Who is it!?”

It’s redundant the moment the words leave her mouth. Because she recognizes the intruder’s face the moment she sees it.

_ “Makoto!?” _

He’s standing maybe fifteen feet from her house, craning his neck up to look in the window. Still in his school uniform, he’s as disheveled as ever. A baffling sight to see.

He gives a tiny nod.

She’s having trouble breathing. He can’t be here!

“What are you  _ doing _ here!?”

He shuffles awkwardly. “I…” He mumbles “Can you please let me in?”

Her jaw drops. Let him in!?  _ Let him in!? _ If he’s even _ seen _ here, her life is over! What is he thinking!?

Her silence must speak volumes, because in an instant he’s rambling. _ “I- I’m sorry. I couldn’t find Kiyoshi’s house and yours is really big and I saw it and… And…-” _ he drifts off, at a complete loss for words.

...It’s a far cry from his usual demeanor. He anxiously knits at his hands. 

Fumiko can’t help but stare. “Makoto, I can’t-”

That’s when she notices tears dripping down his cheeks.

_ “Makoto?" _

He blinks up at her, sputtering for breath.

“What happened?” she asks.

“My dad… He… I… He-- He’s mad, and I-” he whimpers. “I just can’t be home right now. I  _ can’t,” _ he firmly states. He’s quivering. And he looks so, so alone.

...

“...Come in.”

The words are out of her mouth before she can even process what she’s saying. She can’t believe herself! What is she thinking!? If her parents catch wind of this, she’ll be finished. But seeing him stand there, shivering in the night…

“You can come in,” she repeats, more to herself than anyone. “Just don’t let anyone see you,” she hisses. She turns and heads towards the hallway. “I’ll unlock the doo-”

“You don’t need to,” he quickly reassures. She wonders what he means until she hears a scrambling noise. And in ten seconds flat he’s pulling himself in through her window.

He  _ climbed!?  _

He tumbles in onto her floor and shakily gets to his feet. Even in the dark of her room, seeing him up close confirms her suspicions: He’s been crying.

_ “Thank you thank you thank y-” _

“Be quiet!” she hisses. “I’m  _ really _ not supposed to have you here. So keep it down!” 

He blinks. And for once, he listens. “...Okay.”

He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, watching her closely.

“Er- You can sit down,” she reassures as she hurries over to shut her window and lock her door. He plops down on her bed, looking thoroughly relieved. He’s rubbing at his eyes with his hands. She grabs him a box of tissues but after a few, he’s right back to wiping away his tears with a balled fist.

“...What happened?” she asks.

“I told you-” he says. 

“You gave me what barely qualifies as barebones details,” Fumiko retorts.

He shies back.

“I mean… Can you explain again, or whatever?” she retries, taking a seat next to him.

“Gahhhh. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain,” he says, flopping back on her bed.

She looks over at him, staring up at her ceiling. And finally, she thinks she maybe sees a piece of herself in him. “Try. Maybe you won’t get your point across, but I can listen.”

“Well, like… Sometimes my dad gets really mad,” Makoto admits. “And it’s like, not really a big deal, though? It’s just sort of how things have always been. I don’t see him around a lot, and when I do he’s usually really stressed. And I don’t blame him! He’s a good guy. He just… Has to work really hard because of me. And sometimes he yells at me, but that doesn’t really matter, either.”

She can’t believe her ears. “...I would argue-”

“No, no. It’s okay-” he interrupts. “We’re fine. We’re cool. It’s not something I mind. But tonight I just… I don’t know what happened. He got home and he woke me up and he slammed the door and I...” He pauses. “I don’t know. It scared me.” He sniffles. “And I  _ know  _ that’s silly.”

“It’s not silly!” She’s hardly processing the words coming out of Makoto’s mouth. He…  _ What? _

“But he’s never actually hurt me before!” Makoto says. “And he wouldn’t. He loves me.”

...Somehow she doubts that.

“I don’t know why I got so scared," he admits. “I was just thinking about some things, and I had to get out of there. I tried to find Kiyoshi’s place, but I couldn’t. But I saw yours and it was all big and recognizable. And I know you’re probably embarrassed to have someone like  _ me _ around, and I’m sorry. But I-”

“No, no. That’s not it.”  _ He’s known? _ And she’d chalked the way he’d interacted with her up to ignorance. But he’s known she’s been judging him all along... “You… You haven’t done anything,” she admits. “My parents… They just… Hate everyone.”

“...I’m sure that’s not true-” Makoto refutes.

“No. It is. They do. They hate everyone.”

_...Even her. _

“And sometimes, I think I do, too. But I’m trying not to. I’m trying not to. I’m not embarrassed to give you a place to stay. I’m scared. Because… They wouldn’t think you deserve it.”

Makoto blinks in confusion, then frowns. “Are you going to get in trouble if they find out I was here?”

Fumiko hesitates. 

“Yeah. A lot,” she admits.

“I should go.” He stands and hurries over to the window. He’s already prying it back open by the time she bolts to her feet and grabs his wrist.

“Are you delusional!?” she asks.

“It’s not a hard climb-” he insists, tugging at his hand.

“I’m not letting you go back there-”

“You said you’d get in t-”

_ “They don’t need to find out.” _

Makoto stares. “You’re lying to your parents?”

Fumiko bites her lip. “Please don’t word it like that,” she begs. Her gaze drops downwards. “It’s… Just tonight. Tomorrow first thing after school I’ll show you where Kiyoshi lives. But I can’t turn you away tonight. It… It wouldn’t be right.”

Makoto finally stops struggling. And a tiny smile creeps up the corners of his lips. “...Awww. You really  _ do  _ have a soul.”

Fumiko rolls her eyes. “Don’t test your luck,” she snaps, shutting the window and shoving him back over to the bed.

He sits back down without complaint.

It’s unsettling, how quickly he’d been willing to shoo himself out like some sort of stray pet. Is that how disposably he sees himself?

He’s antsily rubbing his hands together. “...Thanks, Fumiko. It means a lot. I know I’m overreacti-”

_ “You’re not overreacting,” _ she butts in. She’s not letting him downplay that one.

“But I just don’t get why I freaked out like that... I’ve never been scared of him before.” He sighs. “He’s probably really worried about me.”

Fumiko’s quiet. “Maybe… Maybe it’s not that you, or even he’s, changed. Maybe it’s that the people around you have. Like you’re realizing you don’t deserve to be treated that way. Because now you know people who would never treat you like that.”

“Like you?”

Fumiko freezes, anger rising in her chest.

Okay, so maybe her life is a little abnormal, but it’s nothing like his! She… She’s not coming to any realization about how she deserves to be treated! And she’s certainly not suddenly having some perspective shift. She doesn’t need to! Because her parents aren’t  _ awful! _

Her shoulders defensively raise. “I… No, it’s not-”

“You’re not being way nicer to me?” Makoto asks, starting at her in confusion.

_ “Eh?” _

“You said I know people who would never treat me like that. Like you.” He pauses. “I was trying to give you a compliment?”

Fumiko’s shoulders lower. “...Oh.”

Christ! Why had she gotten so defensive? Now she’s gone and made a fool of herself. There she goes! Needing to make everything about her-

“Yeah. Like me,” she says.

“...Maybe,” he says. He’s quiet, as if mulling that over. Then finally, he turns to her. “Hey, Fumiko, do you ever have weird dreams?”

Well if that isn’t a shift in topic.

“Not particularly,” she admits.

“Oh…” He frowns. He’s staring at down his hands. He opens his mouth to speak, but quickly closes it again. And before he can manage to find his words, his stomach grumbles.

Fumiko shoots him a look.

“What?” he asks.

“When’s the last time you ate?” she replies.

Makoto’s quiet.

_ “When?” _ she repeats. She’s not taking a nonanswer on this one.

“...Thisafternoon.” He mumbles, shifting awkwardly. “Nagisa gave me some Pop Rocks.”

_ He hasn’t eaten since 2PM, and the last thing he had on his stomach was  _ **_Pop Rocks!?_ **

Fumiko stands up. “I’ll get you something.” 

“No, no. You don’t need to. I can just nab something from the 7/11 tomorrow morning-” he insists.

“You and what money?” 

“Nab,” He repeats, making a swiping motion with his hands. “Y’know.”

Fumiko’s jaw drops.  _ He’s robbing a 7/11!? _

_ “Nope,”  _ she bluntly says, grabbing his wrist. She doesn’t even think twice about it as she yanks him up off the bed. “We’re getting you something right now.”

Makoto must catch the irritation in her voice, because he doesn’t fight back any further. 

She unlocks and opens the door, then creeps out into the hall. He tiptoes after her.

“Follow me,” she whispers. “And  _ be quiet.”  _

He nods. 

She slinks down the hallway, careful to steer clear of the direction of her parents’ room. She watches her shadow carefully and holds a finger to her lips as they reach the top of the staircase.

Even with a firm warning administered, Makoto can’t quite manage to hold back a gasp. His eyes are like saucers staring down the massive spiral staircase.

She gives him a nod and a smirk, then guides him down the stairway. There’s a skip in his step, even as he’s careful to retain his quiet stealthiness. He’s looking up and down, around and about, taking in every painting and banister with a childlike wonder.

They descend past the second floor and reach the first.

Makoto hops off the stairs, thoroughly impressed. He mouths something, but she can’t quite make it out.

“What?” she whispers.

_ “This place. Is. Awesome.”  _

Eh. She’s seen cooler.

She walks through the lounge, and through the dining room. Over expensive beige rugs and past the ornate grandfather clock. Past the piano and throw pillows and lush curtains. And past the intricately carved dining room table where she sits silently each morning.

Makoto’s quiet as he tiptoes after her.

This silence is different.

He looks her way every time he spots something impressive, a stunned look on his face. And he points excitedly each and every time something catches his eye. He makes a silly face when she stumbles over the carpet and worries about the noise, sticking his tongue out as if to say “Don’t worry about it!”

...It works.

They reach the kitchen. She opens the fridge, the light from inside utterly blinding in comparison to the dark house. Squinting, she motions to the fridge, as if to say “Take your pick.”

He nabs a thing of pudding.

_ Not that pick! _

“Pick something that will actually fill your stomach,” she hisses.

“This will fill my stomach-” he insists.

“No. It won’t.” She pushes the pudding back into the fridge.

She digs through the fridge, shoving aside meal after meal she turns her head up at. It’s not exactly as if they keep leftovers. Finally, she sighs and pulls out the container of cantaloupe.

Makoto cocks an eyebrow.

“We don’t really keep ‘quick meals’ around here,” she explains.

_ “Pick something that will actually fill your stomach,” _ he chides.

Fumiko huffs and shuts the fridge.

“Waitwaitwait-” Makoto says. “How about how I have both?” He reaches for the fridge. “Pretty please? To... Fill my stomach?”

Fumiko sighs, relents, and retrieves him the cup of pudding. He grabs at it excitedly and pumps his fist in victory.

They creep back upstairs, careful to not make a sound. And by the time they reach her room, Makoto’s face is dry.

Fumiko pops open the cantaloupe and sits down. But it’s only as Makoto tears open the pudding she comes to the acute realization they’ve forgotten to grab a spoon. Makoto seems to mull their fatal mistake over for roughly half a second, before promptly deciding to lick it up himself.

Fumiko stares. “That’s disgusting.”

Makoto gives a shrug. “Gotta do what I’ve gotta do!”

He cleans the cup in no-time. She slides the container of cantaloupe his way. He gives her a quick thanks and scarfs it down.

It takes him maybe two minutes to finish his meal. He sets the containers aside and flops down on the bed, letting out a sigh of relief.

“And what do you say?” she asks. 

“Oh! Thank you!” He pipes up, turning her way with that sincere smile of his.

...Sincere?

Is it? How can he be sincere at a time like this? Is he truly happy-go-lucky, or is he back to masking what hides behind that grin?

As if reading her thoughts, he speaks up. “Listen. I’m, uh- Sorry you had to see me like that. I hope it won’t change what you think of me.”

Fumiko blinks. “Of course it will,” She admits. She’s not going to lie to his face, even for the sake of tact. She’s just not that sort of person.

Makoto seems rather dejected by the notion. He frowns and averts his gaze. 

“But does that have to be a bad thing?” she asks. “I’m not sure what sort of answer you expected me to give, but there’s no way this could possibly  _ not  _ change my perception of you. You came crawling to my window a sniveling mess. But in a weird way, I’m glad it happened.”

“‘Scuse me?”

“Not what happened to you of course!” she clarifies. “But… That you ended opening up to me. I’m glad I could see the real you.”

He’d always struck her as so above it all. Happy-go-lucky and free. As much as she hates to admit it, she’d been jealous. Knowing someone who finds so much genuine wonder in the small things worries just as much as her, it’s… Reassuring. He’s also scared. And if he can scale rooftops even when he’s scared, maybe she can too.

“Listen. I’m sorry about the other day.”

“Wait, what?” he seems genuinely confused.

“What I said during PE. That you wouldn’t get what my life is like. That you lived in some carefree world. That was presumptuous of me. It turns out… Your life is way harder than mine could ever be.”

He gives a shrug. “I dunno if that’s true," he admits. “I think your parents suck, too.”

“N-no they don’t! Not like _ that-” _ she refutes.

“Well… Maybe not,” he says. “But it’s still unfair. You shouldn’t have to sneak around in the middle of the night just to feel safe. They’re your parents. They should love and support you. You shouldn’t need to feel like you’re hiding from them.”

Fumiko gently clutches the bed with her hands. She’s silent,

“I guess...” she finally admits. “...I guess it  _ does _ kind of suck.”

And it’s only then that she knows, deep down, that what she said earlier… About everything changing when someone’s finally kind to you… It  _ is _ about her.

Her lip quivers. Why does she feel ready to cry!?

Makoto must notice that, too. Because he speaks up. “How about our lives can suck together, okay?” he says with a smile. “Better to be on a sinking ship with a friend.”

It’s horrible, but she laughs. Despite it all, she covers her mouth with her hands and she laughs.

...He laughs too.

She can’t know for sure, but she’d like to think this time it’s genuine. That even despite his sadness, he truly does have a penchant for finding the best in a bad situation. She can’t conceive surviving a life like his otherwise.

Quite frankly, she can’t even conceive how he’s survived on his own thus far.

He yawns, stretching like a goddamn cat.

“You should probably try to get some sleep,” she says. It’s only now she’s realizing just how tired she is.

He gives a curt nod. “...Yeah. That would be nice,” he says. “I’ll be gone by morning, okay? So don’t worry about your parents. I’ll sneak right back out the window!”

She really doesn’t like that idea. She can’t exactly think of a productive counterplan, but he’s  _ seriously  _ going to break his neck at this rate.

He must catch the worried look on her face. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. I’m good at being sneaky! Just like a spy!”

With all the creeping around they’ve been doing, they really have been spies, huh?

...The thought makes her feel kind of cool.

He scrambles to make himself comfortable. Before finally curling up in the fetal position… At the foot of her bed.

“...Can you just be normal!?” she asks in exasperation. “You’re not a dog! I’m not going to yell at you for using my bed as intended!”

He perks up and worms his way under her covers. “Oh! Alright! Just had to make sure!”

He hadn’t made sure, for one! He hadn’t even asked! What does he think he is, her charity project!?

That said, he’s comfortable under her covers in no-time. She tucks herself in and turns over to face the wall opposite of him.

“...Night, Makoto.”

“Night,” Makoto says. “And… Thanks again. I don’t know what I’d have done without you,” And with the quiver in his voice, that much she knows he means. 

Holding back tears, her own voice quivers, too. “...You’re welcome.”

He dozes off in no-time. She follows in suit. That night, she dreams of climbing higher.

And as promised, by morning, he’s gone.

* * *

 

It’s hard keeping a secret when your relationship is founded on trust. It’s doubly hard keeping said secret when it’s practically out in the open as is.

It’s a lazy Saturday. Kayano and Karma are seated on the floor, controllers in hand, and tensions through the roof.

“Oh, fuck you!” Karma cries.

“Get good!” Kayano shouts triumphantly in response.

You know, the usual way people talk to each other when playing Mario Kart.

Nagisa and Gakushuu are settled on the couch behind them. Gakushuu’s trying to pretend to be thoroughly occupied with his phone, but Nagisa catches the way his eyes flicker towards the television each time one of his over-enthusiastic housemates lets out a victory cry or a melodramatic groan.

Nagisa, on the other hand, is recording it.

“Go Kayano!” he cheers, phone in one hand.

“Oh! I see how it is!” Karma snidely grumbles.

“What can I say? She’s in first. I’d like to side with the victor, thank you very much,” he says with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, fuck you, too,” Karma mutters, flipping him the bird. “At least Gakushuu’s on my side, right?” 

“Absolutely not,” Gakushuu says, not even bothering to look up from his phone. “For one, I know better than to place my bets on a man who’s willing to make crass hand motions instead of paying attention to the actual video game.”

Karma rolls his eyes. “I am paying attention! See!? Look!” he says, making a turn and drifting straight into an Item Box. The roulette spins, and his grin grows wicked as it lands on a Blue Shell.

“Ha! _ See!? _ It’s time for some karma, baby!” He says, pumping his fist in the air. Neither Gakushuu or Nagisa comment on how many times they’ve had to bear that pun.

Kayano doesn’t say a word, merely stares intensely at the TV as she watches the Blue Shell race towards her. She leans towards the screen, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched.

Karma punches her shoulder. “And, oh, how the tables have turned!” He boasts. “Will our breastless braggart finally meet her untimely end!?”

There’s one fatal flaw in Karma’s plan, however. And Nagisa can see it coming from a mile away. What Karma doesn’t notice in his cutthroat arrogance is what rests in Kayano’s own item box…

The moment the Blue Shell swirls overhead, she dashes out of the way, leaving the explosion in the dust. 

_ ‘Power Shroom, baby!’ _

She races over the finish line, condemning another braggart entirely to his own untimely end.

Of course, being a polite and mature woman of high-renown, she takes this victory in stride.

**_“Eat shit, Karma!”_ ** she shouts, pushing him over with all the force of a goddamn semi truck. He goes tumbling over like a stack of dominos. She half-giggles, half-gasps. “C-Christ! Are you okay!?”

“Physically, yes. Emotionally, absolutely not.”

Gakushuu can’t help but snicker. “You wouldn’t have won either way, jackass. You were not going to make a recovery from tenth place.”

**_“If I was going down she was going down with me.”_ **

“Okay, sore loser." Rich, coming from Gakushuu.

“You up for another round?” Kayano asks. “Or are you too scared of me beating you again?”

“Oh, you know you’re _ on!” _ Karma sits up with a refound vigor. “You two want in this time?” He asks, looking back over his shoulder.

“Nah. I think I much prefer playing spectator,” Nagisa says, waving his phone in the air. He was never exactly a Mario Kart prodigy. His skillset rests more firmly within the area of something like Pokemon: Strategy based.

“Are you legitimately asking me if you want me to play a competitive video game with you?” Gakushuu asks.

When someone dare challenges him, tensions tend to rise awfully fast. Gakushuu is _ beyond  _ competitive. He’s brutal. With all the composure of a tilting preteen balls-deep in a game of Fortnite, he’s arrogant at best, and demented at worst. Not only in his teen years had he literally bit a controller in half during a particularly heated game of Rocket League, but he’s single-handedly the reason both Mario Party and Monopoly are banned from the household.

**_“ABSOLUTELY.”_ **

He cracks his knuckles and races to grab a controller, a wicked grin of his own spreading across his face.

Nagisa gives a tired chuckle. He has a feeling things are about to get intense, but trusts the four of them to unplug the Nintendo Verse before Gakushuu actually ends up giving himself a concussion.

“Thought so,” Karma says with a smirk. “Playing Mario Kart is much more fun than airing our Mario Kart drama out to your weird nerd friends, anyways.”

Gakushuu rolls his eyes as he returns to his seat. He has an aloof face on, but Nagisa can catch the way he’s vibrating in anticipation. “For one, I am not  _ ‘airing our Mario Kart drama out to my weird nerd friends.’ _ I’m not even talking to my weird nerd friends. I’m _ filing our tax reforms.”  _

Ah yes, Gakushuu’s weird nerd friends. Where there is darkness, there is light. Where there is sadness, there is joy. Where there is Mario Party, there is the marginally less irritating Mario Kart. And where there is Nagisa’s downright-maniacal, barely-functional and chat-spamming whirlwind of friends, there is Gakushuu’s social circle of responsible adults.

...The Virtuoso group chat.

To be truthful, it existed long before the E-Class group chat actually made its debut. But sometimes Nagisa wonders if it’s only managed to stick around this long out of pure spite. Any and all actual grudges between the two groups have long since faded with time, but it’s hard to truly shake that childish pettiness. Ever since time began (Or at least ever since Nagisa’d met Gakushuu,) one principle has stood tall and true: What the E-Class has, the A-Class must have.

...Jealous losers. 

It’s nowhere near as untouchable as they’d like to keep its reputation, however.  It may not have its local Rio, or its… In-depth discussions of Sasuke, but where the E-Class group chat has never been touched, the Virtuoso group chat certainly has. 

...It’s been _ infiltrated.  _

Needless to say, there’s a reason they’re on the sixth iteration of the Virtuoso group chat. Namely because ‘The Red Menace’ has a penchant for weaseling his way right into their tight-knit collective and dishing out what qualifies as borderline cyberbullying in the form of pure, unadulterated chaos.

...Either way, Nagisa has no complaints about Gakushuu keeping in contact with his friends. He’s glad they’ve managed to stay in touch. And something tells him having ‘normal’ people to text once in a while helps Gakushuu keep his head on his shoulders. Mario Kart is great and all, but sometimes Gakushuu’s the sort of guy who just needs to talk about real adult things like business forms and stock markets.

“Okay. Whatever you say, gossip,” Karma quips.

Gakushuu flashes his phone, displaying Turbotax in all of its glory.

...And filing taxes.

Gakushuu quickly pockets his phone, before selecting Mario to compete against Karma’s Yoshi, and Kayano’s Isabelle.

An… Indecipherable look crosses Karma’s face. Nagisa can tell where this is heading the moment he opens his mouth.

“Picking Mario, because you want to ride me tonight, huh?”

Gakushuu kicks his back. “Picking Mario because I’m going to throw you off a cliff.”

_...Ah. Much more apt. _

They start up the race. Karma tries his best to jumpscare them as the countdown starts, but to no avail seeing as how they’ve seen this trick a million times before. 

Nagisa’s phone buzzes.  _ Speaking of his own barely-functional friends… _

He whips out his phone and opens the E-Class group chat.

[UNREAD MESSAGES]

[5/24/2030 2:00 PM:] [chiba]: ????????????????

[5/24/2030 2:00 PM:] [Yoshida]: No.

[5/24/2030 2:00 PM:] [Rio]: Well answer the question, Chiba

[5/24/2030 2:01 PM:] [Rio]: Why not?

[5/24/2030 2:01 PM:] [Yoshida]: Horses can’t eat pineapple on pizza.

[5/24/2030 2:01 PM:] [Okuda]: I’m pretty sure horses can’t even eat pineapple?

[5/24/2030 2:01 PM:] [Rio]: Why do you people love crushing my dreams?

[5/24/2030 2:02 PM:] [Hayami]: Why do you love saying things that make me want to hit you with a chair?

[5/24/2030 2:02 PM:] [Rio]: WAIT WAIT WAIT OKAY OKAY OKAY

[5/24/2030 2:02 PM:] [Rio]: WHAT IF IT UNHINGED ITS JAW?

_ [Several people are typing...] _

Nagisa decides to put this conversation to rest before it can escalate.

[5/24/2030 2:03 PM:] [Nagisa]: I’d say I’m sorry to interrupt whatever the hell is currently going on, but giving it a quick glance over, I don’t think I am, actually.

[5/24/2030 2:03 PM:] [Nagisa]: Does anyone want to see Karma losing at Mario Kart or am I going to have to sit on this treasure myself.

[5/24/2030 2:03 PM:] [Yoshida]: Hand it over. I am literally begging you to end this conversation.

[5/24/2030 2:04 PM:] [Rio]: OOOHHH? Go-karting blackmail? You know I’m interested, chump. ;)

Nagisa doesn’t appreciate being called chump, but figures he’ll share their little escapade anyways. He sends the video.

[5/24/2030 2:07 PM:] [❀Kanzaki❀]: oh!!! go kayano!!

[5/24/2030 2:08 PM:] [Yoshida]: DID SHE JUST CONCUSS HIM?

[5/24/2030 2:08 PM:] [Nagisa]: Ahahaha, no. He’s fine.

[5/24/2030 2:08 PM:] [Okuda]: I looked it up and horses can eat pineapwhat did Karma do?

[5/24/2030 2:09 PM:] [Nagisa]: “Git wrecked.”

[5/24/2030 2:010 PM:] [Rio]: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[5/24/2030 2:010 PM:] [Rio]: Also where’s Gakushit?

[5/24/2030 2:011 PM:] [Nagisa]: Please don’t call him that.

[5/24/2030 2:011 PM:] [Nagisa]: He’s on the couch filing our taxes.

[5/24/2030 2:012 PM:] [Hayami]: Instead of playing Mario Kart??

[5/24/2030 2:012 PM:] [Nagisa]: I know. I’m surprised, too.

[5/24/2030 2:013 PM:] [Rio]: You say, on the couch talking to us instead of playing Mario Kart.

[5/24/2030 2:013 PM:] [Nagisa]: I

[5/24/2030 2:013 PM:] [Nagisa]: I’m no good at it, okay!? It’s a hard video game!

[5/24/2030 2:014 PM:] [Rio]: lol. mario kart too hardcore?

[5/24/2030 2:15 PM:] [❀Kanzaki❀]: be nice rio! >:// not everyone can take to things right away!

[5/24/2030 2:015 PM:] [Rio]: Yea, yea. I get it. We can’t all be mlg gamerz like you, ever humble Kanzaki. 

Nagisa sighs and rolls his eyes. Sometimes he wonders if it’s even really his friend group that’s chaotic, or if it’s just Rio. He can’t even begin to imagine how Okuda deals with her. That is, until he remembers he deals with Karma on a daily basis. And, hey, as annoying as Rio is, she’s a lot less brutal than she was all those years ago. She’s left her days of misgendering Nagisa behind her, and moved onto greener pastures such as referring to Kanzaki as “a mlg gamer.”

His phone buzzes again. And this time it’s not from the E-Class group chat.

...It’s a DM from Ritsu.

[5/24/2030 2:17 PM:] [✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Ritsu  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧]: Have you talked to your spouses yet? ^_^’

Nagisa looks up from his phone and glances at his spouses. Gakushuu’s leaning towards the television. Karma elbows Kayano, who stifles a cackle.

[5/24/2030 2:17 PM:] [Nagisa]: Kayano and Gakushuu

[5/24/2030 2:17 PM:] [✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Ritsu  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧]: :/

Nagisa can feel her judgment from a mile away. Suddenly he’s glad they’re texting instead of meeting face to face. The last thing he needs is that disappointed pout staring up at him from his phone.

Things have been… Complicated with Karma. And he knows it shows. Karma’s an intuitive guy. And he thinks that’s what gets to him most about trying to keep this secret. Karma knows they’re tiptoeing around something, and it can be hard to tell just how hurt he is by that sort of thing. He has a tenancy to bottle things in enough as is.

[5/24/2030 2:19 PM:] [Nagisa] I’m going to tell him. Don’t worry.

And he means it. He’s thought it over a lot. Talked about it with Kayano and Gakushuu, too. Gakushuu’s still firmly of the belief that it’s best left unsaid, but Nagisa just can’t agree with him on that one.

[5/24/2030 2:19 PM:] [Nagisa] I just… Don’t know how to breach it.

[5/24/2030 2:20 PM:] [Nagisa] What if he reacts badly?

[5/24/2030 2:20 PM:] [✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Ritsu  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧]: Nagisa…

[5/24/2030 2:21 PM:] [Nagisa] And I know that sounds dumb! But gah! I don’t want this to come between us. because I KNOW how much this sort of stuff means to him. I mean, you saw him back during that save or kill scuffle.

[5/24/2030 2:22 PM:] [✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Ritsu  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧]: I also saw that you were 14.

[5/24/2030 2:22 PM:] [Nagisa]: 15, actually.

[5/24/2030 2:22 PM:] [✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Ritsu  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧]: That’s beyond the point. I’d just rip the bandaid off. As soon as possible. Something tells me it’s going to be okay.

[5/24/2030 2:23 PM:] [Nagisa] ...

[5/24/2030 2:23 PM:] [✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Ritsu  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧]: Did you just text me “...”?

[5/24/2030 2:23 PM:] [✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Ritsu  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧]: I won’t bother you anymore, but I just figured I’d check in. And I’m glad you told the others.

[5/24/2030 2:24 PM:] [✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Ritsu  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧]: Good luck, Nagisa! And on a completely unrelated but mandatory note, also I’d highly recommend don’t check the group chat right now! Rio’s sending photos of horses with unhinged jaws!

...Nagisa decides to take her word for that one.

[5/24/2030 2:25 PM:] [Nagisa]: Thanks, Ritsu.

He pockets his phone and returns his eyes to the television.

Gakushuu speeds over the finish line with a triumphant shout. Karma groans and flops backwards. “You get way too into everything. It’s Mario Kart. You don’t gotta play it like it's fucking League of Legends, Mister God of Gaming.”

“Sounds like someone’s just mad he lost,” Kayano chuckles. She’d only secured fourth place for herself this time, but something tells Nagisa she’s content just seeing Karma bested at all.

Gakushuu’s smirk widens at his 'God of Gaming' comment. At first it seems like one of Karma’s typical quips. But a quick once-over, and it’s easy to tell that not only is it intended to push Gakushuu’s buttons, but to re-enforce his self-worth.

It’s surprisingly eloquent. And it’s surprisingly unrare. Thinking about it, Karma pulls this sort of thing  _ all the time. _ The entire game he’s been shouting “Come on!” and “Cut me some slack!” in between a string of profanities.

...Ritsu’s right. They’re not fifteen anymore. Karma is a mature, thoughtful, and wonderful person who’s learned with time the impact his words have on others. He may be intimidating. And he may be childish. But he’s grown up where it matters. And so has Nagisa. So he’s going to grow up and talk to his goddamn husband. They’re on the same team, and they’ve waited long enough.

“Hey. Uh. Can you actually sit this next race out?” He says, tapping Karma’s shoulder. “There’s… Something I wanted to talk about.”

_ Now!? Okay! Apparently, he’s doing this now! _

Gakushuu and Kayano exchange a look. Karma curiously raises his eyebrows, but quickly stands. “Yeah, sure. I was getting real sick of their nonsense, anyways,” he says. “Try not to have too much fun without me, ya smug bastards,” He tacks on. “Because I WILL be back for a rematch.”

“Okay, okay. Whatever you say, Karma,” Kayano says. It’s clear her mind isn’t where her mouth is. Meeting her eyes, it’s easy to tell she knows exactly where this is headed. Gakushuu bites his lip. But Kayano gives him a reassuring nod.

Nagisa leads them into the guest room. It’s the closest private place, and he doesn’t exactly feel like retreating all the way upstairs to their bedroom. He sits down on the bed.

“Okay, okay, okay. Just like a forewarning that this is. Really serious. So, like, I’m about to dump some heavy shit on you, okay? Keep that in mind. Because… This… Uh…” he drifts off. “This means a lot to me.”

“Okay,” Karma says, taking a seat next to him. “Serious mode engaged. Hit me.” 

“...And this is gonna sound craz-” He remembers Gakushuu’s warning not to degrade himself. “...Sorta weird. This is going to sound sorta weird. And it’s okay if you’re mad at me for it. But let me explain first. In fact, I think I’m. I think I’m just going to blurt it out. If I don’t, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say it.”

Karma’s eyebrows have practically escaped his face. “...Okay?”

His eyes meet Nagisa’s. And Nagisa feels panic rise in his gut. With so, so many ways this could go wrong, it’s hard not to fear this could destroy the delicate balance they’ve found. But it’s too late to turn back now. If he doesn’t say it now, he never will. And that’s completely unacceptable. He braces himself, balls his fists, and forces it out.

_ “Korosensei’s back-” _

...This is his least articulate claim yet! What is  _ wrong _ with him!?

Karma cocks an eyebrow. 

“...Go on?”

It’s hard to read his face, but his initial reaction is nothing Nagisa could have expected. He's not angry, sad, amused, or even confused. There’s a simple curiosity in his eyes.

Nagisa steadies his breathing. 

“Some… Super weird stuff has been happening in my classroom. It’s… This boy…” Ah. There’s no use beating around the bush. Karma’s met the kid. His little incident’s half the reason Nagisa’s even thinking about this! “It’s Makoto. He’s been acting strange.”

Karma blinks. “Stabbing people sort of strange?”

“Stranger,” Nagisa says. “Ever since the beginning of the year, he’s pulled off all sorts of strange stuff. He’s the boy who blew me up on the first day. He turned in an essay with the phrase ‘tentacles all along’ in it. And then, most recently, he, yes, stabbed you-” 

“...Just like I stabbed Korosensei,” Karma finishes. 

Nagisa gives a tiny nod. “He knows things and does things he has no way of knowing about. But it’s not just that. He… Reminds me of him. He’s kind and charismatic. Funny and thoughtful. Dorky and petty. Which I know doesn’t mean anything, but I look at his grin and I swear I just see it. See  _ him.  _ I know it’s out of nowhere. But… It really just feels like I’m side by side with an old friend.” He pauses. “Like… He’s Korosensei reincarnated.”

Karma’s silent. He mulls that over. His gaze slowly travels around the room. He doesn’t look Nagisa’s way. 

Nagisa tenses up. He’s quickly regretting saying anything. “You don’t have t-”

“I believe you.”

Nagisa freezes. He can’t believe his ears. _ “W-What!?” _

“I believe you,” Karma repeats.

“W- What!? Why!?” Nagisa sputters. “Kayano and Gakushuu thought I was losing my mind! Why do  _ you _ believe me!?”

Karma blinks. His expression almost seems hurt. “Hey. What’s that supposed to mean? ‘You?’”

Nagisa hesitates. “...It’s just… I know you like to pick on us. And I  _ know _ you wouldn’t do it over anything actually serious. But I guess I was afraid you wouldn’t take this seriously. I’m having trouble taking it seriously myself.”

Karma absentmindedly taps his fingers on the bed. “This is about Korosensei, Nagisa. I’d never take it anything less than completely seriously,” he pauses. “Plus, you’re forgetting one key detail: I’ve  _ met _ Makoto.” 

“Eh?”

“Kayano? Gakushuu? Neither of them has met the kid. But me? I have. I’ve been maimed by him. I know exactly what you mean. I was starting to wonder if he had something to do with Korosensei, myself. You seem to be forgetting I was Hindu born and raised.”

**_“W-What!?”_ ** Nagisa sputters. “I wouldn’t have expected that from you-” he admits. “Thinking anything similar, I mean.”

“And that was your first mistake: Expecting anything from me. I’m a wildcard, baby. The moment you try to predict what _ I’m _ thinking is the moment you’re screwing up bigtime.” He chuckles. 

Nagisa lets out a tired chuckle of his own. “...I guess you’re right,” he admits. “...It was wrong of me to assume you’d just make fun of me.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“I should have just called a family meeting. Talked to all of you,” Nagisa says. “But… It was so overwhelming. I was scared of you all teaming up on me.” 

He knows that’s a ridiculous notion. His spouses have all reacted a hundred percent supportively. And they always have. Even with each bump in the road, they’ve always been there for each other. It’s what they  _ do. _ It’s irrational at best and offensive at worst to feel afraid of them. He hates to admit it, but he knows it’s a product of how he was raised. Even surrounded by people who love him, he’s petrified by the idea of one mistake sending them spiraling into a yelling fit.

Karma’s quiet.

“...And I guess I just felt like you of all people would be the fastest to call me crazy. Or…” He dwells on the exact feeling that resided in his gut as he hesitated. “...That you’d be mad at me. I know that Korosensei was...” He thinks of a boy free-falling off of cliffs and wrestling on the forest floor. “...Very important to you. I know he was very important to you.”

Karma wraps an arm around Nagisa’s shoulder. “He was important to all of us,” He reassures. “Including you. Don’t you ever doubt the intensity of how deeply you respected that man. I’m not mad. I’d trust your opinion on him over anyone’s.” 

Nagisa can’t help but choke up. He barely manages to get out a “Thanks.”

Yeah. Korosensei was important to him. More than anything. He still doesn’t know if he’d have managed to get out of that situation alive to be sitting here with Karma today if not for his teacher.

“In the dumbest way, I’m  _ relieved _ to hear this is about Korosensei. You came in here all ‘We need to talk about something SERIOUS. And please don’t be mad. Because this has been a long time coming… I’m… I’m so sorry Karma, I…’” Karma imitates in the most melodramatic voice possible. “I thought you were about to ask me for a divorce, for fuck’s sake! And I was like  _ ‘over Mario Kart!?’” _

Nagisa bursts out into laughter. “No! No! Oh my God, no!” he sputters through his giggles. “Not at all!”

Karma gives him a satisfied smirk. “Good. Try not to give me a heart attack next time.”

“Alright, alright,” Nagisa relents, leaning into his embrace. “No promises, though.”

“Asshole,” Karma replies.

They fall silent. Nagisa listens to his breathing.

“So what are we going to do about Makoto?” Karma finally asks.

“Eh?”

“If he really is Korosensei. Do you have some sort of plan, or did you just want to bring this up to me?”

“Just wanted to bring this up to you,” Nagia replies. “I think all I want to do… All I  _ can _ do is just keep trying to give him the best life possible.” He pauses. “What I do for all my students.” He can’t help wonder if he deserves something more. A life better than ‘best.’ Is that even achievable? Or is that plain and simple favoritism at best? 

...He shakes his head. No. He can’t focus on him more than any other student. Not even if they  _ are  _ right, much less when he’s going out on a limb. It’s just not fair. He’ll just have to try harder than his hardest for the all of them.

“Well,  _ that  _ I know you’ll do a great job at. You’ve already pulled it off a hundred times before, haven’t you?” Karma reassures. “Don’t worry about it. He’s going to be the luckiest student in the world.”

“I dunno if I’d go that far-” Nagisa protests.

“Well I would. You're a kickass teacher, so stop being self-deprecating.”

Nagisa’s not sure that one’s possible, but he gives a tiny nod anyways. 

“He’s depending on you. So you gotta be on the top of your game.” He pauses. “Are you planning on telling him about any of this?”

“No,” Nagisa quickly replies. “Kayano and Gakushuu don’t think I should. And I don’t think so, either.” All too well he can remember an adult hovering over his shoulders and telling him who he should be. It’s people like those who make him still have trouble trusting his loved ones fifteen years later. That’s the last sort of person he needs to be. “It’s… Not fair to put any of that on him. It’s just not right.”

“Fair,” Karma replies. “And so you’re not even going to tell him about us?” 

_...The E-Class. The birthplace of Korosensei’s happiest memories. _

“I’m not even going to tell him about us.”

Karma mulls that over. But even he doesn’t seem to have a satisfactory response to that one. He stands. “Well. Is that all you had to talk about?”

“Yeah,” Nagisa replies.

Gakushuu yells profanities from the living room. 

Karma gives him a grin. “See? That was no big deal. I’m not that hard to talk to. So let’s go right back to being a team, and  _ whoop their asses at Mario Kart.” _

“I am not playing Mario Ka-”

Karma slings Nagisa over his shoulders. “Oh yes you are.”

“No, I am not.” 

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” Karma chides. “I just had to be the last one to be privy to your Korosensei conspiracy theory. I’m an excellent sport, but we’re playing some goddamn Mario Kart."

Nagisa slumps. “You know what? That’s fair.”

Karma laughs. “I thought so. And what do you say?”

“Sorry, Karma.” 

“Aw hell no! That’s just beating yourself up more. I think I like the sound of ‘thanks, Karma’ a lot better.”

Nagisa smiles. “Okay, okay. Thanks, Karma.”

“See? Much better! No more secrets in the future.”

Nagisa nods. “...Yeah. No more secrets in the future.” And this time, he means it.

Another shout echoes from the living room.

“Now let’s get in there before Gakushuu bites another controller in half.” 

“Okay. Lets.”

And with his final secret out in the open, Nagisa finally feels a weight lift off his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy. Chapter 7.
> 
> I received a comment a few chapters back pointing out my story was getting a little darker. And I was like “HOO BOY… You have no idea.” Ahahaha, yeah. Adventures In Solitude is definitely a fic that delves into some darker topics, and with the full fledged nosedive into the topic of child abuse this chapter, I think that’s finally starting to show.
> 
> That said, I never want Adventures In Solitude to feel like a bleak story, and I hope no-one is coming out of this story feeling sadder than they did before they read it. I’m trying to be very careful to balance the dark topics with lots of jokes, and I hope intersplicing topics like intergenerational trauma and child abuse with more lighthearted topics like roof climbing and Mario Kart is doing the trick. Because ultimately I do want this to feel like a hopeful story. About how the people who love you can help you get past such fucked up things. And I feel that theme shows with Nagisa and his spouses and their individual traumas, but it’s clear the trio is still finding their place in the world. That said, I do think they’re finally starting to find some comfort in each other, and that’s a relief.
> 
> Just in case I’ve finally added content warnings of all potential sensitive topics that will be gone over in the fic to the tags. 
> 
> I hope no-one, like, interprets what went on with Makoto and Fumiko as a romantic thing. Yes, they shared a bed, but it wasn’t at ALL meant that way, and if anyone makes NSFW jokes I’m gonna beat them over the head with a lamppost. I meant to moreso recreate that feeling of when you’re a kid and over at a slumber party and you’re up way later than your friends parents’ said you could because you’re under the covers with a flashlight reading books and watching movies at 2% volume as opposed to the intimate sort of sharing a bed.
> 
> In general I’m having so much fun capturing the unique absurdity of youth, even in between the darker topics. Does anyone else remember sneaking to the fridge at 1AM or playing Pokemon cards but not knowing the rules? They’re such specific oddball experiences, but I hope they resonate with people!
> 
> Anyways yes I had fun showcasing the parallels between Makoto and Fumiko, and I’m glad they’re starting to realize despite their pessimist and optimist dynamic, they’re a lot more similar than they’d like to admit.
> 
> Sorry there wasn’t a ton of Kiyoshi this chapter! Good news is next chapter is pretty much ENTIRELY Kiyoshi focused, so try not to miss our boy too much! He’s still around. Just doing things like actually participating in class and getting a good night's sleep, unlike SOME heathens.
> 
> And, of course, Karma. Karma Karma Karma.
> 
> I’m curious: Did anyone guess Karma would have a MUCH less hostile reaction than Nagisa expected? I had lots of fun playing up how much Nagisa was afraid to come forward to him, but ultimately Karma is a SUPER intuitive guy. He’s always a step ahead. So him sensing some plot bullshit going down was only to be expected. FGDSHJK
> 
> But that only leaves one question… If Nagisa’s finally opened up to all of his spouses, what is he supposed to do NEXT? 
> 
> I guess that’s for me to know and you to find out!
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were Tuck Everlasting’s Top of The World, Dear Evan Hansen’s For Forever, Twenty One Pilot’s The Run And Go, Garfunkel and Oates Go Kart Racing (As a note this one is extremely NSFW. Be cautious), and Panic! At The Disco’s Come On.
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter, and I hope to update again soon! My summer just started, so I’m hoping to bump my updates up to a faster rate. No promises, though! Make sure to let me know what you thought, and see you soon!


	8. Elephant In The Room Time

When Makoto tells the two of them he has a secret to show them, Kiyoshi half expects to be led into some decrepit back alley and stabbed to death.

And he _is_ led into some decrepit back alley, so hey! They’re halfway there!

“What is he _doing?”_ Kiyoshi whispers.

_“I wish I knew!”_ Fumiko hisses under her breath.

After school, he’d pulled them aside and informed them about his super cool secret. Told them he was missing tutoring and everything today just to show them. Before they could protest they were already being dragged by the hand throughout the city. Kiyoshi decided he hadn’t had anything better to do with his afternoon and sent his dad a quick text telling him he’d be home late. (Not that he figured his dad would take notice either way.) _‘What’s the worst that could happen?’_ he’d told himself.

He’s very quickly learning he should never ask that question where Makoto's involved.

His unpredictable friend had led them down winding street after winding street (In the direct opposite direction of both Kiyoshi and Fumiko’s houses, mind you,) commenting on the “best shortcuts.” And just as Kiyoshi’s unease had finally peaked, he’d skidded to a stop at a particular alleyway... Then darted in. “Wait here! I’ll be right back!” he shouted over his shoulder reassuringly.

That was ten minutes ago.

Fumiko lets out an impatient huff.

Quite frankly, he’s baffled she’d followed them at all. She has even less tolerance for Makoto’s bullshit than his own.

...Which… He supposes isn’t saying a lot, but he’d like to think he has some sort of spine!

“...Do… You think we should go in after him?” he asks.

“Absolutely not. That’s how you get hobos staring at you.”

Because _that’s_ the biggest thing they need to be worrying about in a rundown alleyway!

Kiyoshi’s just about ready to call it quits and declare him dead when Makoto comes rounding the corner. And with him comes the most horrible noise Kiyoshi has ever heard.

An absolutely outraged caterwauling echoes down the street, shredding at Kiyoshi’s ears. But it’s only as he sees something thrashing for dear life in Makoto’s arms that he processes it’s emanating from some kind of living being.

“Everyone… I’d like you to meet Miss Nao!”

Makoto proudly holds up his prize, and Kiyoshi’s mouth falls agape.

In Makoto’s hands is single-handedly the ugliest cat Kiyoshi has ever seen. And sure, he’s a bit of a dog person, but he likes cats plenty! To be honest, he’s not sure if this thing even qualifies as a cat. To be honest-er, he’s not sure if this thing even _qualifies as an animal._ Hissing, spitting, and just about on the brink of foaming at the mouth, it stares him down with the most unadulterated hatred he’s ever seen radiate from another living being. (Is it even _alive!?)_

Mangy and malnourished, with fur matted in ways he hadn’t even conceived possible. Nicked ear and massive underbite. This isn’t a street cat. This is a taxidermy gone horribly wrong. This is an alien’s idea of a street cat. This is a sick joke.

He finally finds his words.

**_“WHAT IS THAT!?”_ **

“It’s Miss Nao!” Makoto repeats as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Miss… Nao?” Fumiko asks, the confusion as evident in her voice as it is in his. Misery must love company or something, because Kiyoshi’s relieved to know she finds this thing as absurd as he does. Otherwise by now, he’d be half convinced he was losing his _goddamn mind._

“Yeah! I’m working on my English, so I named her ‘Miss,’” Makoto proudly states.

Kiyoshi notes that that is _absolute gibberish,_ but decides to save that one for later, because they have much weirder shit on their plate.

‘Miss Nao’ hisses and screeches, clawing at the air in a desperate rage.

“Is… Is it rabid?” Kiyoshi finally finds the strength to ask.

“No!” Makoto refutes. “She’s just shy around strangers. C’mon… They’re my friends! They won’t hurt you,” he whispers reassuringly, not bothering to answer the real question here as to whether or not _she’ll_ hurt them. “Say hi, Miss Nao!” he says, grabbing one of her paws and waving it in their direction.

It’s only now Kiyoshi notices just how scratched up Makoto is. His pant legs are torn to hell and back, and his arms are a bloody mess. _Did... Did he let this cat beat the shit out of him!?_

Okay! Okay! That answers his question! This cat will _definitely_ hurt them!

“Are you SURE it’s not rabid?” Is all he can find in himself to repeat.

“No! _She’s_ not rabid,” Makoto huffs.

Kiyoshi decides to let the whole ‘receiving a microaggression over misgendering a cat’ thing slide just this once, namely because he’s pretty sure if he doesn’t intervene in roughly five seconds said cat is going to tear Makoto’s throat out.

“Well… She seems awfully angry,” he says, pointing at Makoto’s arms.

“Oh. Yeah. She kinda gets like that. It’s okay. I’m used to it,” he cheerily replies. “Me and Miss Nao go WAY back. We met like a year ago.” Is that his idea of way back!? “We’re BEST friends. I throw her food scraps on the way home from school!” He holds Miss Nao close to his face and gushes. “That’s right! Isn’t it, Miss Nao!?”

Watching Miss Nao yowl in Makoto’s face, Kiyoshi can’t help but wonder if that’s what they’re also going to feel like after hanging out with Makoto for a full year.

A scary thought!

“Okay! Okay! Please put her down!” He finally intervenes, lowering Makoto’s arms. “I think she needs a break!”

Finally, Makoto complies. He places the cat(?) on the ground with a smile. And against _all fucking odds,_ the cat doesn’t run away. Instead, she makes herself at home on top of a nearby crate, staring Kiyoshi down with her hateful eyes.

_E-Eep! Somehow this is worse!_

“You guys wanna try and pet her?” Makoto asks.

Kiyoshi takes one look at his shredded arms, and quickly decides that’s going to be a big, fat, “NO.”

Fumiko shakes her head. “Thanks, but no thanks,” she says the apprehension clear as day in her voice.

“Your loss,” Makoto replies, plopping down next to Miss Nao and stroking her head. She shoots him a look that says “You are _this_ close to losing your eyeballs,” but Kiyoshi can’t bring himself to care, seeing as how he’s just glad the death glare is off him at this point.

“...How did you even _find_ this thing?” Fumiko asks.

“Well, one day it was raining super bad while I was walking home from school. And I heard her yowling her head off! And I was like ‘Oh no!’ Because who just ignores a crying kitten in the rain-”

“Waitwaitwait-” Kiyoshi interjects. _“Kitten?”_

“Yeah? She was just a baby. So I helped fi-”

“You said you’ve only known her a year!”

“Mmmhmm? So I he-”

_“There’s no way that cat’s only a year old!”_

Upon first seeing her, Kiyoshi’d assumed she was on death’s door. If that cat’s a year old, then his mother is still in her prime.

“Yes she is!” Makoto huffs. “I dunno what to tell you! Miss Nao’s still young and beautiful!” He leans in close to her face. “You are! Aren’t you, Miss Nao? Yes you are! Yes you are!” he gushes.

“The story,” Fumiko reminds him. “Get back to the story.”

“Yeah! Right!” Makoto sits up. “So I help find her shelter for the day, ‘cause I knew I probably couldn’t take her back to my place. But I started worrying ‘how’s she gonna get food?’ Because she’s just a little girl! And I decided I’d take care of her! No! More than that! That we’d become BEST FRIENDS. I didn’t really have a lotta friends at the time, so I was like ‘Yes! Prime opportunity!’”

Kiyoshi genuinely can’t tell if his bewilderment is still coming from the ‘kitten’ thing or the fact that Makoto just dropped he’d never had friends before so cheerily.

“And what do you know! I succeeded! Now I try to check up on her every day. When I nab stuff from the 7/11 I make sure to pick up some snacks for her, too.”

_Wait, what?_

Kiyoshi blinks. “...Nab stuff from the 7/11?”

Fumiko shoots him a death glare. Eep! Is there something he’s missing here!?

“Yeah. Y’know-” Makoto says, making a swiping motion with his hands.

“Well! I’m sure she must appreciate it!” Fumiko intervenes, elbowing Makoto.

It’s not hard to discern the sudden topic change. Don’t tell him Makoto’s roped _her_ of all people into stealing from the local convenience store!

He decides to drop it for now. But he makes a careful mental note to bring it up to Nagisa as soon as possible. Whether for sport or for survival, he’s not exactly sure he likes the idea of Makoto stealing cat food from the 7/11.

“...Yeah. I’m sure she does,” he agrees.

“Oh. I _know_ she does.” Makoto grins. “Watch this.” He brings his hand down her back and starts to stroke. He must finally hit her sweet spot, because despite every horrible noise, deranged wheeze, and demonic yell she’s let out over the past fifteen minutes, she releases the softest purr. Rubbing her head on Makoto’s arm, her satanic aura dissipates in an instant.

If he didn’t know any better, Kiyoshi’d almost find it cute!

Makoto must notice his gushy expression, because he smirks. “See? I told you. She’s not scary, just shy.”

Fumiko takes a step forward. “You know what?” she says. “You’ve got me. I’ll bite.”

Makoto perks up.

“You’ll pet her!?”

“I’ll pet her.”

She makes her way over to Miss Nao. She hesitates, but meets Makoto’s eyes, kneels, and runs her hand down the cat.

Kiyoshi flinches, but to his surprise, Miss Nao doesn’t lunge. Fumiko’s hand remains intact for now. Miss Nao lets out another satisfied purr.

“Awwww!” Makoto says. “I think she likes you!”

“Duh. Everyone does,” Fumiko replies. But her genuinely shocked and delighted face suggests otherwise.

“You want in on this, Kiyoshi?” Makoto asks.

“Sorry, I think that’s still gonna be a no,” Kiyoshi admits.

“Awww! C’mon! She doesn’t bite!”

_He’s just not so sure of that, taking one look at Makoto’s punctured ankles!_

“Uh- No,” he repeats.

“C’monnnnnn! It’d be fun! Don’t be a pussy!”

_ADORABLE PURRING OR NOT, HE ENJOYS HAVING FINGERS! HE WON’T BE DUPED, DECEIVED, OR BAMBOOZLED!_

“I’m quite content with my role as the ‘pussy’ of the friend group, thank you very much.”

“Pet her! Pet her! Pet her!” Makoto chants.

“Okay, no - Drop it,” Fumiko finally intervenes. Her voice is no-nonsense. “If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to. Don’t be obnoxious about it.”

Makoto lets out a sigh, but relents. “Okay, okay.”

“It’s like you said. More for us.”

Makoto perks up. “Oh! You’re _so_ right!”

Kiyoshi lets out a sigh of relief. He’s thankful she stepped in. Because that was either starting to get really irritating, or really anxiety-inducing. He can’t tell.

“Yeah. I think I’m content to watch from afar,” he says, before mouthing a quick ‘thanks’ to Fumiko.

She gives him a curt nod.

The petting ensues for a while longer. But before they know it, Miss Nao stands, hops off her crate, and darts back off into the dark of the alleyway.

“Oh! Seeya!” Makoto says, waving after her.

Kiyoshi’s not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved to see her go.

“Ah - Sorry if we, like, scared her off earlier than usual,” he says.

“What!? No!” Makoto replies. “All you were doing was standing there. Don’t apologize for _that._ She just likes her alone time. Only so much of me she can take, y’know?” He gives a cheeky smile. “She actually kind of reminds me of you guys.”

_E-Eh!?_

There’s a long moment of awkward silence as Kiyoshi searches for words. Something, something _‘Hey! It’s not that there’s only so much of you I can take!’_

Fumiko beats him to it.

“Going to extrapolate on that?”

“Y’know! Cold and scary on the outside!” He holds his hands up near his head, curling his fingers like claws. “Sweet and thoughtful on the inside!” He clasps his hands over his heart. “Or... “ He holds his hands up by his cheek and says in falsetto “Shy and apprehensive initially… But…” He flexes. “Super cool in reality!”

...Kiyoshi blinks. On one hand, he’s offended on a deeply fundamental level upon being even remotely compared to that excuse for a cat. But on the other hand… He’s never been called ‘super cool’ before.

_Why is it Makoto’s so capable of turning the weirdest shit into compliments!?_

“I - Er - Thanks,” he sputters. “For the compliment. The cat compliment.”

“You’re welcome, my dear friend!” Makoto says with a salute.

Despite seeming fairly flattered as well, Fumiko’s interest has dropped exponentially now that there’s no longer a cat within fifteen feet of her. She stands.

“Is that all you had to show us?” she asks.

Makoto nods. “Yeah! I wanted you guys to meet her! You’re the first ever! Not even Nagisa has had the pleasure of making her acquaintance yet!”

Kiyoshi is personally victimized by the mental image of him bringing that thing into class. That ‘yet’ tacked onto the end of Makoto’s sentence has him nervous in particular.

“Please never let her meet Shiota-sensei,” he begs.

“No promises!” Makoto says with a smirk.

Fumiko rolls her eyes. “In that case, I should get going home. I don’t want to be late,” she admits. “Thank you for  letting me meet her, Makoto.”

Makoto nods. “No problem! Let’s meet up here again sometime, okay? Next time I’ll bring the laser pointer!”

Fumiko chuckles. “I’ll see what I can do.” And she starts making her way home. “Goodbye.”

“Seeya tomorrow!”

“Bye!” Kiyoshi quickly adds on.

And before they know it, she’s gone.

Kiyoshi stretches. “I should probably get on my way, too,” he admits. “If I’m too late, my dad might get worried about me.” He highly, _highly_ doubts it, but it’s a nice thought.

“Alright!” Makoto says with a nod. But he’s not letting Kiyoshi go quite yet. “You should totally let me meet your dad sometime. Y’know. In return for me letting you meet my totally awesome kitty cat.”

Kiyoshi’s looking for the nicest way to say Makoto would get on his father’s last nerve when Makoto continues to speak.

“I mean, he like, sounds so cool. Teaching Nagisa and Karma and all! I bet he’s a _badass._ Is it true he’d fight them?”

“I - Er-” Kiyoshi sputters. “‘Fight them’ is a bit of an exaggeration. Sometimes he’d just do what Shiota-sensei’s doing now. Y’know? ‘Strike me in practice for trying to get a hit in on that octopus. If you can’t get me, you’ll never get him.’”

Makoto nods vigorously. “I bet he has so many neat stories about things that went down! About himself and Korosensei and all of their students! Pretty please let me talk to him sometime?”

Kiyoshi sighs. “I mean, I’m not opposed, but he’s not exactly the storytelling type.”

“So?” Makoto scoffs. “I’m not about to be deterred by that! I’m sure with a little perseverance I can chisel through that gruff, no-nonsense exterior of his.”

_Gah! How had he gleaned that much from ‘not the storytelling type!?’ This kid’s intuition is CREEPY!_

“Like I said, I’ll see what I can do,” he replies. “But my dad’s… Actually not home a lot.”

“Oh.” Makoto frowns deeply. “...That’s sad.”

“I’m used to it,” Kiyoshi says with a shrug.

“Well, I’d still like to meet him, sometime. Maybe talk to him about the right way to treat his son!”

_“PLEASE DON’T-”_

“I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m sure he’s just busy with work. I get it. My dad works a lot, too.”

Kiyoshi sighs. “Yeah.”

He knows for a fact Makoto wouldn’t get what it’s like to fear every day your dad might not come home, but he doesn’t want to be a downer. He keeps his mouth shut.

Makoto must notice the somber atmosphere, because he places a firm hand on Kiyoshi’s shoulder and gives him a grin. “Maybe you can even let me meet your mom! I heard she’s smoking hot?”

Kiyoshi chokes on his own spit. He tears himself away from Makoto.

**_“Don’t say that about my mother!”_ ** he shrieks, feeling his cheeks flush pink with humiliation.

Makoto snickers. “It’s not MY fault you have a MILF of a m-”

“NOPE! I am _not_ having this conversation!” he snaps, pushing his way past Makoto.

Lord knows he’s already had it a thousand times before. Kid after kid after kid seems to be convinced his mom is the ‘hottest piece of ass on the planet.’ A deeply uncomfortable notion, considering, you know: The fact that she’s his _goddamn mom!_ She’s happily taken by his father, thank you very much!

“Awww, c’mo-” Makoto tries to insist through his giggles.

Kiyoshi’s already storming off. "NOPE! I’m not doing this today! Or tomorrow! Do not bring this up at school tomorrow! Goodbye! Have a horrible day!” He begins the long trek home, speedwalking as fast as humanly possible.

Makoto’s laughing up a storm. “Jeez-! Jeez!” He says, quickly tailing Kiyoshi. “Didn’t realize it was such a sore spot! Just wait up a second!”

Despite knowing far better than to give this maniac the time of day, Kiyoshi skids to a halt. He lets out a sigh. “What is it?”

“Okay, okay, okay-” Makoto says, panting as he reaches Kiyoshi’s side. “First of all, you are a _fast_ walker when you’re mad. Second of all, I’m sorry I called your hot mom hot.”

Kiyoshi lets out an irritated “Tch.”

“But third of all, I mean that, okay?” Makoto admits, sheepishly jamming his hands in his pockets. “I’d… Really love to meet your parents. Some stuff’s gone down recently, and I…” He pauses. “Well, anyway, I’ve heard they’re very good people. It’d mean a lot to me if I was able to say hello sometime.”

It’s a surprisingly genuine request. Makoto’s staring him down with those quivering puppy dog eyes of his. He’s not exactly sure why Makoto’s so invested in meeting his pseudo-celebrity parents, but… Admittedly it’s nice to see that sort of sincerity from Makoto.

“Like I said, I’ll see what I can do. For you to meet up with the both of them.” He pauses. “As long as you _never_ call my mom hot ever again-”

Makoto doesn’t even seem to process what he’s saying. He fist pumps excitedly, then slaps Kiyoshi on the back. “Thanks, Kiyoshi! No promises, though!” He cheekily sticks his tongue out. And before Kiyoshi can protest, he’s gone, darting off towards wherever his own home is.

Kiyoshi sighs. He can only hope Makoto doesn’t call his mom hot to her face. The last thing she needs is more ammunition.

...Obnoxious prick.

_Makoto, that is! Not his own mother!_

Annoying as he is, though, Kiyoshi does like the idea of having him over. Fumiko, too. Maybe one day when both his parents are home, he can invite them over. He can’t help but remember what Makoto had said earlier. About not having friends. He may be weird, but Kiyoshi’s friendship must mean a lot to him. To Fumiko, too. They might be a handful, but he thinks he’s starting to like having them around. No-one’s ever showed him their cat before.

...Yeah. He likes that. Maybe, just maybe, they’re the first real friends he’s had, either. And they deserve to see his place.

* * *

 Kiyoshi checks his phone compulsively on the way home.

[5/29/2030 2:01 PM:] [Kiyoshi]: I’ll be home a little late! Makoto says he has something to show us. See you soon!

[5/29/2030 2:03 PM:] [Dad]: Ok.

[5/29/2030 2:03 PM:] [Dad]: See you.

That was maybe a half hour ago. They haven’t exchanged anything since.

Days alone with dad are weird. It always feels like there’s an elephant in the room they’re ignoring.

He stares at the phone as he walks.

[5/29/2030 2:32 PM:] [Kiyoshi]: On my way now.

He waits antsily for his phone to buzz in response.

Days alone with dad are quiet. Neither of them are talkative.

It takes him three minutes to reply. Kiyoshi feels paranoid for even tracking it.

[5/29/2030 2:35 PM:] [Dad]: Alright.

...He doesn’t ask how it had been.

Most of all, days with dad are lonely.

He pockets his phone and sighs.

He makes it two minutes before he checks again.

That same ‘alright’ stares back at him, equally as unimpressed.

“He showed us a cat” he starts to type, but quickly backtracks.

“Guess what we saw today?” he tries again.

He even gives “School was good” a shot.

He deletes that, too.

He just can’t word it right. And to be honest, he doesn’t know why he bothers. His dad won’t care about that.

Sometimes it feels like his dad won’t care about anything. Least of all about him.

It’s no secret that he’s a disappointment to him. Kiyoshi knows that more than anything. It's simply become a fundamental fact of the universe. Gravity attracts, seasons turn, and his family regrets having him.

He sighs and pockets his phone.

He’s not sure what he wants, really. Because here’s the thing: He’s not unhappy. If anything, he lives a fantastic life. He’s well off and well fed. He has plenty of interests, and now he even has friends. He’s going to a school most people could only dream of. And it’s not that his folks don’t love him… They just…

_...Wish he could be so much better?_

It’s dumb. What else can he possibly ask for?

He kicks a stone as he walks.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever feel good enough. And he’s come to accept that, too. He’s lived his entire life in a bubble, chained down by those all too familiar fears and anxieties. They've just become normal. And he supposes that’s okay. It’s just a matter of life. He has his good days, and there are even moments when he likes himself. Moments when he forgets. Moments where he gets by.

But somehow, days with dad always seem to remind him.

He checks his phone one last time for good measure.

...Dad doesn’t have anything else to say.

It takes him roughly a half hour to get home. He unlatches the door and peeks his head inside.

“Hey,” He says.

“Hey,” Dad says, sitting on the couch with a laptop in front of him.

Taro’s nestled into his side. There goes all of Mom’s hard lint rolling effort. He perks his head up as Kiyoshi takes off his shoes.

“Hey, Taro,” Kiyoshi tacks on.

The dog doesn’t respond. It’s just the two of them.

Silence.

“How was school?” Dad finally asks.

“Good,” Kiyoshi uneventfully answers.

“And your thing with your friends?”

“Good,” Kiyoshi repeats. He opts to not tell Dad about the cat.

“That’s good,” Dad comments. And that’s the extent of it.

_‘Good talk’_ Kiyoshi almost snarks. But he decides against that, too. That feels more like a joke his mom’s inclined to make.

...She doesn’t overthink it like him.

“Mmmm,” he decides on, instead. He places his book-bag on the floor. “I think I’m going to head up to my room. My head hurts. I think I could use a nap.”

“Okay,” Dad says, piercing eyes never once looking away from Kiyoshi. There’s this indiscernible look on his face. “Do you want me to wake you up at a certain time?”

“Nah,” Kiyoshi responds. “I think I’ll just see how long I can go.”

“Okay.”

That silence hangs over the room once more.

“Take the dog with you,” Dad says. His mouth says “He’s been bothering me all day,” but his eyes say _‘you look like you need him.’_

...Kiyoshi will take what he can get. He whistles. Taro hops up and trots over to his side.

“Sleep well,” Dad says as he gets back to his work.

“I will,” Kiyoshi unceremoniously replies.

And that’s that.

He makes his way to his room and flops down on his bed.

He focuses on redirecting his thoughts. It’s a strategy he's adept at. He steadies his breathing, buries his face in Taro’s fluff, and runs his fingers through his fur. It’s silky soft. Much softer than Miss Nao’s.

Well. He thinks it is, at least. He’d been too pussy to pet her, too.

God! What is _wrong_ with him!?

He’d totally disappointed Makoto. Fumiko had stood up for him, but he knows deep down she’d judged him for it, too. If _she_ had done it, why couldn’t he? Because he was too cowardly, that was why. It was just a cat. What’s the worst it could have done to him?

Dad would have just petted the cat.

_And there he is again._

He can’t blame Dad for being awkward around him sometimes. Mom, too. He gets it. He knows that he was entirely unplanned. That he’d been a last minute decision. That he’d thrown their lives entirely off track. A three hit combo.

He’d be disappointed if he gave birth to himself, too. They’d sacrificed so much for him, and he’d turned out the sort of son who overthinks everything, panics subsequently, and then hides himself away in his room.

It feels like they’re always just going through the motions. Kiyoshi disappointing, Mom overcompensating, and Dad pretending he’s happy with the life he’s living.

He feels that familiar hitch in his breath and reminds himself again not to dwell on it. A routine he knows all too well, considering sometimes it feels like ‘dwelling’ is all he ever does.

_Gah! Don’t think about how badly you’re trying to think about thinking about avoiding it!_

_Think about your dog._ He reminds himself. _Your friends. You’re excited to have them over, aren’t you?_

...And he is. When he’s not running himself in circles about what they must think about him, he likes his friends. And he thinks he mostly likes them because he _doesn’t_ tend to run himself in circles about them as much as he does over other people. With them, he gets exactly what he sees on the tin. Fumiko’s too blunt to hide her distaste over anything he does, and Makoto has too little of a filter to hide _anything_ that goes through his mind. They let him know what they really think of him.

...And they still like him.

Maybe they don’t care about the cat. In fact, they _probably_ don’t care about the cat. Sure, Makoto had seemed disappointed, but he’ll probably have forgotten about it entirely before tomorrow. And yeah, Fumiko may be a little judgmental, but she has far more valid things to tear him apart over.

...They don’t care about the cat.

That releases some of the tightness in his chest. It’s nice when he can manage to untangle his thoughts. Point out the contradictions. Figure that what he thinks isn’t always what’s true. It’s the one asset he has when he gets this way.

Yeah. His friends make him feel a bit better.

Taro nuzzles his side. Taro makes him feel a bit better, too.

He can’t wait to show them Taro. He bets Makoto will love him, even if Fumiko might turn her head up at him a little. He just hopes Makoto doesn’t end up spooking the dog with his overzealous energy.

...He’s excited to show them his room, too. His book collection, his PS6, and his Nintendo Verse. He wonders if they’ve ever played Pokemon before. Even if they have, he bets they don’t have a shiny Absol like he does! Have they ever read Fullmetal Alchemist? Or what about Warrior Cats? Makoto will probably gush over his fish, but something tells him Fumiko will be more impressed by his study corner or his chemistry kit. He can’t help but wonder if they’ll make fun of his diary, and briefly entertains the idea of hiding it in his closet, before quickly figuring no, they won’t give a shit. As long as they don’t read it, at least.

He leaves himself a mental note to “get a massive fucking padlock before he invites his nosey friends over." The last thing they need to be learning about is his daddy issues or his fear of the dark.

And despite himself, he even finds himself looking a little forward to it... The idea of having them over. Something tells him it’ll be a fun night.

At least, for the most part.

There’s only one flaw in Makoto’s seamless plan. How exactly does he plan to get through to the ‘gruff, no-nonsense’ Karasuma, when his own son can’t even seem to do that?

* * *

Being a teacher means making hard decisions.

And Nagisa finds himself face to face with one after Kiyoshi approaches him with a concern.

The past two weeks had been going seamlessly. With all of his spouses on the same page, Nagisa had finally been ready to buckle down on operation “Give Makoto (And The Rest of His Students!) A Good Life.”

Midterms had flown by, and while there were definitely some fumbles, the kids were feeling good about themselves, and Nagisa could see exactly what areas he needed to double up on in regards to helping his them study. Tutoring with Makoto was going great, and Gakushuu was helping him record his suspicions. Karma invited himself into the classroom one more time just for good measure (No stabbings involved this time,) and Kayano seemed thankful Nagisa had opened up to the others.

Spirits were high, and it felt like Nagisa was finally back on track in regards to getting his head back on his shoulders.

_“Makoto’s been stealing things,”_ took that fragile normality he’d found, torn it out of his hands, smashed it with a fucking baseball bat, and then run it over with a truck.

“He’s been what?”

“Stealing things,” Kiyoshi’d repeated. “He let it slip when he was, uh-” He hesitated. “Showing us his pet. Said he takes things from the 7/11. Usually I’d think he was making it up to seem cool. But… I just don’t think he’s that kind of person?”

“I’ll… Look into it.”

That had been two days ago. And he’s seen it everywhere since then.

The snacks Makoto boldly carries into class every morning, and his irregular schedule. But moreso than that, than the misdemeanor looming above his head, the confirmation that his misbehavior in class may have more serious roots. That his dirty clothes are more than an unruly boy’s rough-and-tumble nature, and that the candy he demands from Nagisa is indeed a necessity, not a bragging right.

...That the stabbing had been learned behavior.

Makoto strikes Nagisa as a lot of things, but the sort to rob a store for _fun_ is none of those. He needs to step in.

It’s 5:30PM on a Wednesday afternoon. Nagisa and Makoto are just finishing up their studies, and Nagisa’s looking for a way to breach the subject.

Nagisa’s had this talk with students what feels like a thousand times now, but it never gets any easier.

Makoto slaps his pencil down on the desk with a grin. “And that’s that!” he shouts triumphantly, having finally fumbled his way through a particularly difficult Science worksheet. “Got anything else for me to do while you look that over, or can I get going?” He’s bouncing in his seat, no doubt enthusiastic about the idea of getting on with his day and returning to… Whatever it is he does when he’s not on school grounds.

He’s talkative about his studies. He’s talkative about his friends and about his interests. But he’s uncharacteristically secretive about his personal life. And that’s bad sign number 2.

“I was actually wondering if we could talk about something before you head out?” Nagisa asks. “Real quick? It’s actually pretty important.”

Makoto shrugs. “Sure! I’ve got time to blow,” he says, scooting in his chair. “What is it? Have you got more stories about Korosensei?”

“Not exactly,” Nagisa replies. “It’s about you,” he says, pretending that those aren’t ostensibly the same thing. “Listen, uh - I don’t want this to sound like an accusation. So don’t think I’m mad at you. Because I’m not. I’m just worried. But I’ve been observing you, and I’ve heard some rumors.” He knows better than to namedrop Kiyoshi. “...Is it true you’ve been stealing things?”

Makoto blinks. His mouth hangs open, but he’s silent.

Nagisa has to admit that was sort of abrupt. Probably the last topic Makoto expected him to breach, in fact? His mistake-

“Sorry. That was a bit sudden,” he admits. “But like I said, I’-”

Makoto finally finds his words. “It doesn’t really matter,” he quickly says.

_Excuse me?_

His defensiveness speaks volumes. If Makoto had just been making things up, something tells Nagisa he’d have just admitted it as opposed to avoiding the topic entirely. No. They have a real problem on their hands.

“That, uh - Does kind of really matter, buddy,” Nagisa says. He holds a hand out. “But… You can talk to me about this, okay? There’s no need to lie. I’m not going to rat you out. I’m just scared you’ll end up getting in trouble.”

“I said it doesn’t matter-”

_“Makoto.”_

Makoto’s shoulders lower. “Maybealittle,” he admits, averting his gaze. “But it’s not, like… A big deal. It’s just a fun thing.”

Nagisa can’t exactly believe that, either.

“Makoto, I know you would never do something like that just for the sake of it.” Perhaps one could argue the Karma incident proves otherwise, but Nagisa simply can’t agree. Even that had had its own twisted reasoning. As irrational as he can seem, Makoto calculates his every move. “...Is there another reason you’re doing this?”

He knows it’s best for Makoto if he can manage to coax a confession out of him as opposed to making any bold statements. The last thing he wants to do is make any big conclusions about his home life. And he knows from personal experience that if anything _is_ going on during after school hours, it’ll most help Makoto reclaim his agency to come to that conclusion himself.

“No, Nagisa,” Makoto says, standing up. “Listen. I’m just gonna go, okay?”

_“No,”_ Nagisa says sternly. “We need to talk about this.”

“And I told you it’s not a big deal!” Makoto insists.

“It is. If you’re not doing this for fun, it’s my job to step in. It’s my job as your teacher to protect you, after all,” Nagisa points out. “And if you’re just doing this for fun, you’re hurting people. An employee might get in a lot of trouble because of what you’re doing. You’re not that sort of person, are you, Makoto?”

Makoto shuffles awkwardly, averting his gaze. “...No,” he admits, staring at the floor.

“And you’ll get in even more trouble if you get caught.”

“I won’t get caught,” Makoto quickly reassures. “I’m really good at it-”

“You don’t know that. You’re not invincible, Makoto.”

“Eh, I’m close enough-” Makoto jokes, giving him a nervous grin.

He’s not joking his way out of this one. Close enough? _Close enough!?_ Nagisa knows better than anyone that even ‘close enough’ to invincible isn’t enough to save your hide when you’ve fallen far enough!

Makoto must notice his upset look. “Look. Don’t worry. Please don’t waste your time on this. I’ll be fine, Nagisa.”

“No, _you won’t-”_ Nagisa snaps. “Please talk to me, Makoto. Is there anything going on at home?”

He doesn’t even realize he’s made that leap until it’s already out of his mouth. Whatever, whatever. It’s obvious enough. The way he carries himself. The things he does. How he talks about himself. _Waste your time?_ This is his job!

...The way he freezes up at Nagisa’s accusation.

“N-No!” he sputters. “Home is good, really! My dad tries super hard!” He wheels around and begins to parade off. “In fact, I should really be getting home to him right now- Seeya!”

Nagisa stands. “Makoto-” he says. “Wait just a second. Please.”

Makoto sighs and stops. He lets out a frustrated _“What?”_

“Are you getting enough to eat at home?”

Makoto’s quiet.

“...No,” he admits.

Nagisa’s heart snaps in two. He’d seen it coming, but it’s still horrific to hear. “Y-”

“But-! Like! He shouldn’t have to get in trouble because of it! So don’t worry!” Makoto quickly clarifies. “We get by! I get by! I take care of myself, okay?”

_...And you’re just a kid! That’s not okay!_

“You don’t have to anymore,” Nagisa says. “You should never have to get by on your own. I’m not going to get your dad in trouble,” he reassures. At least not until he looks into the situation more. It’s… Always hard to break away from a situation like that when you really do love the person hurting you. “But you’re not alone anymore. You can _always_ come to me for help.”

“Okay, okay, whatever-”

It’s easy to tell he’s not taking him seriously. _“I mean that, Makoto.”_

“I know! But _please_ don’t stress out over me. Trust me when I say there’re people who need your help way more than me.”

“It’s my job to take care of all my students, _you included.”_ He’s clearly going through a lot as is. The last thing he needs to be worrying about is the concept of inconveniencing Nagisa. “I’ve done this a _very_ long time. You’re never asking for too much by asking for my help. If you ever need something to eat or a place to stay-”

**_“I. Don’t.”_ **

“...Then what do you intend to do, Makoto?” Nagisa asks.

“Keep doing what I’m doing,” Makoto says, heading towards the door.

Nagisa feels his heart pound in his chest. Something tells him once he’s out that door, there really will be no getting through to him. He can’t let that happen.

“And what do you do when you get caught?” he asks impatiently.

_Not again!_

“I won’t.”

“You. _Will.”_

He will. And the world won’t bat an eye. They won’t see the impoverished, traumatized kid who tries so, so hard. They won’t see the _child_ afraid of becoming a burden. They’ll see the thieving, unstable, bloodthirsty teenager. Something dangerous. A ticking time bomb. His life will be over before it even gets a chance to begin. Because he got off to a bad start. Because no-one tried to step in before now. Because he doesn’t believe he deserves good things to happen to him. Because not everyone can be like Nagisa! It takes all his patience to be this way! To see in others what he saw. But the world doesn’t understand! It never has!

People take their first impressions and they run with them. If nothing else proves that, the crimson barrier that loomed over this building fifteen years ago does.

Makoto stops in front of the door, hand shaking.

“No…” he softly says.

“Why won’t you just accept help from anyone?” Nagisa asks

“I don’t. Need it,” he repeats.

“Yes you do!” Nagisa snaps.

“Why do you even care so much!?”

Makoto reaches for the door.

**_“Because I can’t let you get hurt again, Korosensei!”_ **

Nagisa only processes he’s exploded after the words have left his mouth. He stands trembling, blinking back tears.

Makoto stares at him with wide eyes.

_...He messed up._

What is he doing!? Yelling at a kid in a tone that reminds him all-too-much of his overbearing mother? Clutching at the table with a death grip? Letting his emotions get the best of him in front of a kid whose situation he gets? Of course he’s scared of being a burden! It’s not that easy to shake that feeling-! How could he forget what it’s like to be so vulnerable in that situation!?

...How could he let his delusions slip in front of Makoto?

Neither of them speak.

“I-” He finally sputters. “I’m sorry. I was…” he stumbles over his words. “I was thinking about another situati-”

“No,” Makoto interrupts, slowly pulling himself away from the door.

...A massive grin spreads across his face, and the atmosphere in the room shifts in an instant.

He says it with a renewed vigor.

_“You think so too, don’t you?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8! Chapter 8! And a week earlier than I expected to have it out! ;P I’ve been writing 1k words a day, just like I wanted to. And while I’m not sure I can keep that up throughout ALL of the summer (With Artfight in July after all ahaha), I can certainly try!
> 
> I don’t know whether to describe this chapter as pretty uneventful, or extremely eventful.
> 
> Miss Nao is a delight, and I had TONS of fun writing her. She’s just genuinely hilarious. Fun fact: Initially Makoto was drafted without any pets due to his home situation, but Miss Nao came into existence because of a Justshowerthoughts post. It was something along the lines of “Owning a cat to catch mice is like hiring an assassin” and I laughed at the word assassin, went “sweet assclass reference” and decided Korosensei 2 NEEDED a cat in that place.
> 
> If she even is a cat. Kiyoshi’s still not super sold on that one.
> 
> I also had fun getting to delve into some of Kiyoshi’s daddy issues. Self loathing up in this house tonight. Obviously I don’t think Karasuma would exactly make an unloving dad. He’s trying. But I don’t think he’d make a very good dad either, and I think that’s bound to have a pretty negative impact on a deeply insecure person like Kiyoshi.
> 
> Hey, though! On a lighter note, Kiyoshi reads Warrior Cats. Which is… Always a delightful thought? His favorites are Ivypool and Ravenpaw. His favorites from FMA (Which was mentioned as well) are Al and Pride (He thinks the latter is TERRIFYING, but cool)
> 
> But none of you exactly care about Kiyoshi right now, do you? (Okay, no. Who am I kidding? You totally do. The kid’s a fan favorite. He lights up a room.) Nagisa not only just learned about Makoto’s home situation, but let Makoto in on the elephant in the room. (Thus the chapter title. Hehe)
> 
> Good going, bozo. But with Makoto’s reaction… Who knows? Maybe this will go better than either of them could have possibly anticipated.
> 
> Guess you’ll just have to wait til the next chapter to find out! Like I said, hopefully it’ll be here soon with the updated writing schedule, but I can’t make any promises.
> 
> Some songs that helped with writing this chapter were Zoey Van Goey’s You Told The Drunks I Knew Karate, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon’s Guildmaster Wigglytuff, Mother Mother’s Infinitesimal, Radical Face’s The Mute, and The Lightning Thief’s The Tree On The Hill.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! And I’ll try to update again soon! See you then!


	9. Korosensei Time

_”Because I can’t let you get hurt again, Korosensei!”_

_“You think so too, don’t you?”_

Let’s take a step back. Because Makoto’s had a LONG few weeks, and quite frankly, he can’t believe he just said that aloud either.

Nagisa’s staring straight through him.

It all begun with Nagisa.

When Makoto had first caught wind of Constellate Junior High, it had felt like an earth-shattering revelation. Feverishly poring over pictures of the mountainside school, a feeling had resided in his gut more firmly than ever. And although he’d been quick to peg some of that quaint certainty he’d felt up to the all-too-alluring idea of getting to shoot down an adult as part of the curriculum, something more persistent had never ceased nagging at him.

No. He’d been certain. The moment he’d first scaled that mountainside and set his eyes on the aged school, he’d finally found the word he’d been searching for.

‘Familiar.’

He’d been there before.

Of course, it had changed. Fresh zinnias and daffodils bloomed in the flowerbed. The roof had been repaired and the refreshing feeling of air conditioning had hit his face the moment he’d entered the building. The shed seemed to have been rebuilt entirely and the floorboards no longer creaked under his footstep.

But running his hand across the wooden walls… Taking in the glow of the dim overhead lighting, he’d known it for certain.

This was the place from his dreams.

They’d never quite been clear. Blurred faces- simply pieces of foggy memories. But he’d known without a shadow of a doubt that his heart told him he was returning ‘home.’

The boy from his dreams had been there as well.

28 of them? There'd been 28 of them, he'd decided. The figures in his dreams. 30 if you count the adults. It was hard to remember them all. He wasn't certain of their names or their faces, but he knew he’d loved them.

The moment he’d seen him, it had felt as if the fog had finally lifted from one face.

He’d been taller. Not by much, but enough. He’d stood prouder, shoulders straight, and smile genuine. Crescent tie around his neck and hair cut shorter than before... He hadn’t been sure as to why, but it had almost made Makoto feel proud.

_...What had his name been?_

_Nagisa. It had been Nagisa._

He’d tested it out, and it had felt right on his tongue.

Nagisa had never even noticed Makoto’d called him the name before he’d introduced himself by full name.

It had all just sort of grown from that: The sight of an old friend.

The feeling of the blade in his hand. The smell of the mountain breeze. And Nagisa’s diligent lessons.

His dreams had turned vivid, blossomed forth into beauty from the vague. Colorful and familiar. Tender and heartfelt. Laughter he couldn’t quite place reassuring to his ears.

And the more he looked, the more he found.

Kiyoshi had spoken up about his parents and something had clicked in Makoto’s mind. Ah, yes. They had worked here, hadn’t they? He was happy they’d remained together. Their son was a spitting image of the both of them.

He’d snuck onto Nagisa’s desktop searching for the date of Fumiko’s birth. And instead, he’d been greeted with the sight of two more familiar faces. A redhead with a smirk, and a girl he swore looked so different, albeit with eyes he’d never mistake.

Had he known the third? A man standing tall, with piercing eyes and apricot hair. He’d felt so taken aback, seeing him laugh alongside the three of them.

No. No. He’d definitely seen that face before.

_G… Gakuho…?_

No. That wasn’t right.

The boy. There had been a boy. They hadn’t gotten along. That was it. That’s why he couldn’t remember him. He hadn’t been a part of the safe haven that Makoto found in his dreams.

A “He just didn’t strike me as your type” is all he could find it in him to comment.

And still, he’d been happy for him, too.

Fumiko’s face had lit up when she’d received her birthday gift. And something had unlatched in the back of his own mind. He knew that feeling, didn’t he? Yes. He’d received a gift, too. They’d sung softly, the candlelight illuminating their faces. All 28 of them. His… His 28...

_Students?_

A teacher. There was no doubt about it. He’d been a teacher. Just like another someone he was hearing an awful lot about.

He’d had to stab Karma. He knew that the moment he saw him. He’d been overjoyed to reunite, but the competitive streak in his gut demanded it of him. _‘Get even’_ it had said. _‘He’ll understand.’_

And he had. Makoto, however, hadn’t quite understood until three days later. He’d dreamt of the same snide boy and the exploding pain that shot across his hand the moment they’d first shook hands.

...Knife shards taped to his palm. The thought made Makoto burst into laughter the moment he woke. Now _that_ was way more clever than a pencil!

It was almost as if he’d seen it all standing on the roof. For one precious moment, he’d been swept back in time. And up there, on top of the world, he’d seen an army of kids trying to land blows on at a tall, black haired man. A chuckle had nearly escaped his lips when he’d caught Fumiko’s stare and had been thrust back into reality.

Even before that, he supposes he had to have known. Why else would he have asked Nagisa to tell him about Korosensei? He’d felt it in his bones. The utter joy that surrounded him each time he stepped foot in this building. It had to mean something.

Memories of looming far taller than he stands. Beautiful sights and sweet sounds. The wind whipping on his face as he soared through the air. Memories of loving. _Of being loved._

And the more he learned, the more he believed. Nagisa was describing him. Each story he told, each anecdote he shared, Makoto felt an absolute truth to.

Looking up at the patchwork moon each night, he’d known that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He’d been looking for a way to bring it up. Nagisa deserved to know. His voice dripped with grief each time he spoke of Korosensei, and it broke Makoto’s heart. Who was he to continue to allow him to feel that way? That’s not what a teacher did! They had reunions to share! Things to catch up on! There was no time for anguish!

But still, where to even begin? Would Nagisa even _believe_ him?

Yes, even the ever-impulsive Makoto had found himself at a loss for words.

But it turns out Makoto didn’t need to breach the topic. His teacher has done just that for him.

* * *

Nagisa’s heart stops in his chest.

_W… What was that Makoto just said? No. There’s no way._

He’d known deep down that from the moment he let himself believe Korosensei had come back, he was setting himself up for disappointment. It just wasn’t likely. It just wasn’t possible, despite any evidence he'd set up in his mind. At… It’s very best, it was something to make him feel better. And… At it’s very worst, it was far too heavy of a weight to put on a child’s shoulders.

_He hadn’t even meant to let it slip!_

But Makoto’s staring at him with determined eyes.

No. This is a mistake. He’s just misinterpreting him.

“P… Pardon?” Nagisa manages to sputter.

Makoto closes the door and takes a step forward. He’s antsily bouncing from foot to foot. “...That I’m related to Korosensei.” He pauses, sending a glance to his side. “Well, no. That I _am_ Korosensei.”

Nagisa scrambles to his feet. He feels lightheaded. He can’t tell if he’s sick or giddy.

_He’s… He’s back-_

Nagisa has to hold back tears.

“I- I didn’t mean t- I shouldn’t have - Well -” He fumbles over his words. “I… I mean… What, uh… What led you to come to that conclusion?”

Makoto gives him a look.

“N-Not that I- Don’t believe you-” _God! He believes him more than anything!_ “I’d just… Like to hear it. I’d really like to hear it.”

Makoto gives him a tiny nod. And then a surer one. “I’d be glad to,” he says. “But… I think we should sit down first. You’re shaking.”

Nagisa only notices it when Makoto points it out. He desperately tries to steady his breathing and returns to his chair. He pulls out another and beckons Makoto over. Nagisa quietly sets their schoolwork aside and Makoto takes a seat next to him.

In a moment, the mood of the room has shifted from tense to poignant. Nagisa gently reminds himself they need to return to the topic of Makoto’s actions before the day is done, but right now there are much more important things on their hands.

Makoto knits his hands. He’s grinning. It’s hard to tell whether he’s nervous or relieved. Quite frankly, Nagisa can’t tell which he’s feeling, either.

“So, like, even _I_ know it’s a bit out of the blue to admit I think I’m your dead teacher,” Makoto awkwardly admits.

“To be fair, I accused you of being my dead teacher first.”

Makoto lets out a giggle. It’s more familiar than ever. “Touche,” he admits. “Okay! Uh! Where do I begin? I thought this would be a lot easier than it actually is-”

“At the beginning would be a good idea.”

“Oh! Right-” Makoto shuffles in his chair. “So… This is gonna be a BIT creepy, but I’ve always dreamt about this place. About you. About your spouses. And about some other guys, too.”

_‘Some other guys, too.’_

“That’s no way to talk about your students,” Nagisa says. Then quickly remembers Makoto hasn’t actually sold him on the idea of this yet. He reminds himself that he’s just dealing with a kid here. He needs to be careful not to spur him on too much. “Well, your theoretical students. You haven’t quite convinced me yet.”

Makoto’s face flushes with embarrassment. “Hey! I’m not saying I don’t care about them! I just… Can’tremembermosthingsyet.” He covers his face with his hands, and it’s Nagisa’s turn to chuckle.

“Okay, okay. Go on,” he relents. “What sort of dreams?

“Well, at first they were super vague and annoying. Like… I’d see a quick shot of someone’s face. Or this place.” He motions around the room. “But… It would happen all the time. All my life I knew it had to mean something. Because even when I couldn’t tell what was going on, it felt _important._ That’s why I freaked out when I saw this place! It hadn’t changed at all!”

Hey! That’s not entirely true. Nagisa and his friends have done a fair share of revitalizing the school building. But he supposes it has the same sort of rustic vibe to it, so he’ll let it slide.

“I had to get in. And I like sorta convinced myself it was just because this place was SUPER cool, but I knew it was more than that.” He pauses. “I applied myself, y’know. I bet you couldn’t even tell!”

“Oh, no. I could tell.” Nagisa admits. “It was… Part of that enthusiasm that sold me on accepting you.”

“Ah! Then it was an excellent decision on my part!” Makoto exclaims.

Nagisa has to gently remind him to get back on track.

“Oh, yeah. The dreams. They got way crazier after I saw this place in person. I could actually make sense of what was going on! I knew I was here, and I knew some of the people, too! Like you. You were so little!” He snickers, before tossing on a quick, “Age-wise. Height you were about the same.”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Nagisa replies. “What sort of things did you see?”

“Well… For the most part, they were mundane. At least as mundane as you could get at this place. Study sessions and stuff. But I loomed over everyone! And… I was the smart one. Helping you guys like you’re helping me. And sometimes even that got a little more exciting. Like… In one, there was this girl...”

_‘Very specific.’_ Nagisa thinks. He doesn’t say that. “...What happened with her?”

“Well, I remember she was struggling with one of her subjects. L… anguage, I think? She was convinced she’d never be any good at it. But it didn’t matter, because she was really good at something else. And I was like ‘no way!’ and helped her with the one she liked, but was secretly training her in the one she hated the whole time! Then she, like, hoodwinked me! Or I hoodwinked her.” He pauses, awkwardly scratching at his shoulder. “Like I said. I don’t remember everything.”

“Okuda,” Nagisa says. He… Remembers that happening. And he hadn’t shared that one with Makoto. “Yeah. She was struggling with her Language. But she was a prodigy in Science. You helped her concoct a formula to try and kill you..”

“But… It didn’t work,” Makoto makes sure to specify.

“Sure didn’t. Most of our attempts didn’t. It just kind of messed with your body instead.”

Makoto smirks. And it’s like a lightbulb flickers over his head. A spark of recognition in his eyes. “Yeah! Right And that’s what I wanted all along! I tricked her to show her the power of how important her words were!” He vigorously nods. “And those were the real cool sorts of stories. Not the studying ones. The _assassinations._ Your big knives and you all trying to hold me down but _failing,”_ He smirks triumphantly, and Nagisa can practically visualize the lines of green across his face. “Oh! Oh! Or how the robot girl went apeshit at first!”

...He’s not exactly sure that’s how Korosensei would have worded it, but Ritsu did indeed ‘go apeshit.’

“Yeah. They brought Ritsu in from Norway. She didn’t exactly get along with any of us at first. Did you know one of our classmates taped up her guns at first?”

Makoto giggles at the thought. “Well, that’s one way to get her!” He says. “But… She calmed down eventually, right? How’d that happen?”

“I don't know. Why don’t you tell me?”

Makoto lets out a whine. “I dunnnnnnno!” he says. “I wouldn’t be asking you otherwise.” He flops forward on the table. “C’mon. Just tell me.”

Absolutely not. If… He is who he says he is, he’ll figure that one out on his own. At least, given some time. He’s a smart cookie. “No way,” Nagisa says with a shrug. “I think I’ll let you remember that one for yourself. Good story, really! Much more interesting in person.”

Makoto pouts. “This is JUST like the moon thing. You’re so annoying.”

“Says the most annoying teacher on the planet. Consider it retribution.”

Makoto lets out a half-laugh, half-groan. “Says the guy obsessed with praising him!” he says, bitterly sticking out his tongue.

“Fair point,” Nagisa says, chuckling. “But I’m still not cracking. It’ll feel a lot more rewarding when you figure it out on your own.”

Makoto rolls his eyes, but finally sits up. “Okay, okay,” he relents. Then pauses. He stares at the table, deep in thought, then subsequently realizes he was in the middle of telling a story. “Oh-! I got distracted,” he sheepishly admits. “Uh. Where was I?”

“You were saying your favorite memories were of the assassinations.”

Makoto nods. “Yeah. That was it,” he says. “...And then I got to try it for _myself!_ You have no idea how cool it felt to be on the other end of that situation.”

“Hey. I do, actually. I’ve gone from assassin to assassin-ee, I’ll have you know.”

“Target. The word is target.”

“I think I prefer assassin-ee.”

Makoto promptly ignores him.  “I tried it out, and I thought… ‘I’ve done this. I’ve felt this before.’ And it wasn’t just that. Studying by your side… Hearing stories about your friends… Seeing you all grown up… Learning about who Korosensei was… It was like looking into a mirror. It’s one of those things I just _knew in my gut._ You know what I mean, right?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

Makoto nods firmly. “Of course you do. You feel it in your gut too, don’t you?”

“...Yeah. I think so.”

Makoto gives him a smile. “But I know gut-evidence isn’t exactly conclusive, so that’s why I shared all that stuff I shouldn’t know first! Smart, huh? So. What do you have to say? Believe me?”

It’s Nagisa’s turn to nod.

_“...Yeah... I think so.”_

Makoto’s right. Even more than just the hard facts (Which there are PLENTY of now), he feels it in his gut. Looking across the table at the tiny boy, and seeing him pump his fist in victory, he knows he’s looking at an old friend. For a moment, he’s fourteen again. And Korosensei is alive.

...Maybe he’s not the same. And maybe he doesn’t remember everything. But he’s alive. And he’s here. And he has a second chance. And that's enough to make Nagisa burst into tears.

“WOAH WOAH WOAH!” Makoto says, putting his hands up in the air. “This was supposed to be, like, a fun thing! A happy reunion! Don’t cry! Don’t cry-”

Nagisa quickly wipes at his eyes and apologizes. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t cry in front of you.” Korosensei or not, Makoto’s still just a kid.  “...I’m happy to see you. There’s nothing to cry about.” Still, he’s blinking back tears. “I just… This is a lot… To…” He drifts off, stifling a ‘hic.’

Makoto hurries out of his seat, and rushes over to Nagisa’s side. He wraps him in a hug. “...Hey. Hey. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Nagisa finally breaks down. Like a dam bursting, tears stream down his cheeks. He returns Makoto’s hug, holds him tight to his chest, and lets out a pathetic whimper.

He knows it’s not right to dump this on Makoto, but he can’t hold it back a second longer. So, so much has built up over the past fifteen years. His regrets and his worries and his grief piling up inside his chest until he could barely breathe. To have Korosensei right here... To hug his long lost teacher… It’s downright overwhelming.

Makoto keeps saying “I’m here,” and rubbing circles on his back. “I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.” The more Nagisa hears it, the more he chokes up. And though he can still barely breathe, he thinks… He thinks this is a good cry. Yeah. This is a good cry. Because he’s right here.

...He never wants to let go.

“I missed you,” he whimpers.

“...Hey. No need for that,” Makoto replies, squeezing him tighter. “I’ve been right here two whole months. You didn’t know... But I was right here. So no need to start crying now, okay?”

Nagisa gives a tiny nod. “...Okay.”

There’s so, so much he wants to ask him. Just how much does he remember? Where’s Aguri? Does he miss her? Does he remember her at all? And what about the dangers they’d faced as a class? The downright traumatizing moments laced in between those wonderful days? Does Makoto remember killing?

...Does Makoto remember dying?

So, so badly, Nagisa wants to apologize. Say every day he wished he could have found another way. That he should have fought harder. Been smarter. Forced the world to understand. How long has it haunted him? The blood on his hands…?

But he doesn’t say anything. If Makoto doesn’t remember, Makoto doesn’t remember. The last things he needs to be dwelling on are assassinations in a war-torn world and grief of his own.

...The last thing he needs to be dwelling on is Nagisa taking his life.

“I’m here.” Makoto reminds him, and Nagisa decides that’s the last thing he needs to be dwelling on, too.

“...Yeah. You are,” Nagisa says, and with one last squeeze and a shaky breath, pulls away. “...You’re right here.”

“And I’m not going anywhere this time.”

Nagisa reaches up and wipes his tears away. Makoto’s right. He’s here to stay. Nagisa will make sure of that.

“T… Thank you,” he says. “Thank you, Sensei. If… If there’s anything you ever need-” He pauses. “I’m… I’m here, okay? If your memories ever bother you, or… If your life related to any of this is ever too much, I’m here. So please:” He says. “Hear me out and talk to me about what’s going on. No arguing, this time? I’m here for you. I promise.”

Makoto’s quiet, but Nagisa’s unfaltering.

Because he _will_ give Makoto the best life possible. No matter what it takes.

...He’s not going anywhere this time, either.

* * *

Ah. So they’re back to this again, huh?

Makoto had hoped touching on the whole “am literally your dead teacher” thing would be enough to distract Nagisa from the much less interesting “living on the poverty line” thing.

“...I told you. That’s really not necessary, okay?” he reassures. “I can take care of myself.”

Nagisa shoots him a wounded look. “Makoto-” he says in exasperation, but quickly cuts himself off. He sighs. “...Maybe you can. But you don’t need to prove yourself to anyone. Even if you can get through this alone, you don’t _need_ to. These things are a lot easier with someone supporting you.”

It’s not about ‘proving himself.’ At least, he doesn’t think so. It’s just… He’s always gotten by. His life is good! He doesn’t see why he needs to go changing that now.

“I know, I know-” he says.

“You’re saying that, but you’re not listening,” Nagisa points out.

He’s not entirely wrong.

Makoto gives an indifferent shrug. “I just don’t see why this is important. I’m happy, Nagisa.”

Nagisa’s brow creases. “Until you get in trouble.”

_“If_ I get in trouble.”

Here’s the thing, Makoto can’t really process the idea of ‘getting in trouble.’ Being ratted out by 7/11, or having his dad thrown under the bus. Things have gone on this way for this long. He theoretically knows things can go wrong. He can even imagine what would happen. The fallout of his actions. But he can’t bring himself to care? Because it’s not real. It won’t happen.

Nagisa bites his lip. Makoto knows he’s frustrating him, but he supposes he’s avoiding inconveniencing him in the long term. The last thing he needs is Nagisa worrying about him.

Nagisa’s silent, for a long moment. He’s absentmindedly tapping his finger on the desk. Makoto’s close to speaking up when he says

“Okay. Let me try a different approach.” He looks Makoto’s way. “It would really mean a lot to me if you heard me out. As you can tell, I’ve…” He takes a deep breath. “Missed you a lot. I’ve missed you a lot. It’s been a very long time, Sensei. We have a lot of things to catch up on. And we won’t be able to do that if you end up getting yourself into hot water.”

Makoto shuffles awkwardly.

“And I know you don’t want that. You know what I bet you want? To see everyone again. Hear how they’re doing. Your students are up to a lot of cool things now that they’re all grown up. But what I want is for you to be able to grow up and do cool things yourself. I’m sure you must know that feeling, right?”

...Makoto remembers the pride he’d felt at seeing Nagisa thriving.

“...Yeah. I guess so,” he mumbles.

“So meet me in the middle here. Please,” Nagisa says. “I’m not asking you to overturn your life. And I’m not asking you to leave your dad. I would _never_ ask that. I just want you to let me offer you help where I can. Is that too much to ask?”

“No,” Makoto admits. “I just… Aren’t there people who need that more?”

“If there are, I’ll help them too,” Nagisa says, matter-of-factly.

“...And what if this isn’t a big deal to me?”

“Then we don’t need to turn it into a big deal. We’ll start small. Let me give you a place to have a roof over your head in case of emergencies, and let me get in contact with a guy who can get food on your plate. And, of course, you stop stealing. That’s all. Otherwise, life goes on as normal. That doesn’t sound too stressful, does it?”

“...No,” Makoto admits. In fact, it sounds… Sort of nice.

“Good. And… If you work with me on this, I’ll work with you, too. I’ll do my best to get you in contact with the others.”

Makoto perks up.

“You will!?” he shouts.

“I will. I can’t promise it’ll be immediate. Because this is… A lot to dump on them. But I will. And until then, I’ll tell you all about how they’re doing. In fact…” He smiles. “Why don’t I bring in that old yearbook sometime? So you can see their faces. Well. If I can even manage to lift it. That thing is huge.”

Makoto holds back a giggle as the mental image of a massive book resurfaces in his mind. Thick enough to be used as a goddamn battering ram.

“I’d… I’d love that!” he admits. He can’t even begin to imagine what kind of amazing things they’re doing by now-

“Then we have a deal? I give you a hand, and you stop stealing?”

Makoto hesitates.

“...And you’re sure it won’t be a bother to you, Nagisa?”

Nagisa’s taken aback. “Of course not!” He sputters. “The… The opposite, in fact. I’m… Not sure if you remember, but I didn’t exactly have the best childhood, Sensei.”

Oh. Makoto remembers. A screaming woman yanking Nagisa by the hair. The memory of her is half of what had made him so afraid of his father the other night. Her shrill tone reminded him of him, and suddenly he’d been terrified their own nightly yelling matches would escalate into violence, too.

Makoto doesn’t say that. He gives a curt nod.

“But you helped me through all of my struggles. Even when I was difficult. You’ve done… So much for me. And I know I can never do exactly what you did for me, but _please,_ let me try. Let me repay the favor.” He tries not to let it show, but his voice drips with desperation.

...Makoto can’t endure a moment more.

“...Okay. You have a deal.”

Nagisa gives him a relieved smile. “Thank you, Makoto. I promise you you won’t regret this. I’ll get in contact with my guy, and bring the yearbook in tomorrow. In the meantime…” He digs through his pockets. “Take this.”

He tosses something Makoto’s way. He barely manages to catch it.

“W… What’s this?”

“Spare house keys. You’re welcome at my place at any time.”

Makoto stares at the keys in his hand. “Y… You had these on hand!?”

Nagisa holds up two fingers. “I had _two._ I always try to make sure to in case of emergencies. You never know when a student will need you.”

“W-Where will I stay!? I mean- If something happens at night!?”

“There’s a reason we have a guest room, buddy.” Nagisa smirks. “I’ve been in this business for eight years. You start to have a few tricks up your sleeve." He even writes down his address for Makoto.

Makoto scrambles to Nagisa’s side. “T-Thank you!” He says with a grin. It’s his turn to hug Nagisa. “You… You have no idea how much this means.”

Nagisa hugs back. And this time, he doesn’t cry. “Believe it or not, I think I do. This means a lot to me, too. Thank you for working with me.”

It feels like forever before they pull away.

But finally, Nagisa sighs, gently pries Makoto off of him, and glances at the clock. “You should get going,” he admits. “Seems I’ve kept you a bit later than usual.”

_...Holy hell. Is it really already seven!?_

“Yeah. I guess you’re right,” Makoto replies, fiddling with the keys in his hands. “Miss Nao is probably waiting for me.”

Nagisa gives him a weird look.

“My cat. Miss Nao. Kiyoshi told me not to tell you about her, but she hasn’t actually done anything bad. He just thinks she’s creepy.” He huffs and sticks his tongue out. “We’ll get food for her too, right?”

Nagisa nods. “Of course. We’ll get plenty of food for her too.”

Makoto smiles. “Thanks, Nagisa. I guess I should go now.”

“Just for now. I’m sure your family’s worried about you.”

Makoto knows that’s not true. The tone in Nagisa’s voice is a clear indicator he knows too.

“...Yeah.”

“Come over sometime soon, okay?” Nagisa says. “I… Don’t exactly know how I can get you in contact with everyone, yet, but let’s just say Karma and Kayano know most of what’s going on. And… They’d love to see you.”

Something tells Makoto they’re going to cry all over him, too. But that’s okay. He can’t exactly blame them.

And hey. He’s missed them, too.

“I will. Thank you for everything, Nagisa.” He makes his way towards the door. Nagisa’s staring at the back of his head. It feels so weird to leave now. After everything. A reunion like this should never end, he thinks. “Seeya tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, Sensei,” Nagisa says. And it's a promise.

Makoto walks out the door, sending one last glance back over his shoulder. “Remember to bring the yearbook!” he shouts.

“I’ll see if I can lift it!” Nagisa quips. “And I’ll keep you updated on the food situation too, okay!?”

Makoto nods. And with that, he shuts the door on his teacher and student.

_“Seeya,”_ he reminds himself. It’s not goodbye forever. Nagisa’s made that much clear.

Makoto treks his way down the mountain and turns towards home. His gaze drifts back to the keys in hand.

...They make him choke up.

To be frank, he doesn’t really care about getting to go himself. He’s still not sure he’s worth Nagisa’s time. He’s not sure he ever will be. But the way Nagisa had had them on hand… It makes his heart burst with pride.

Nagisa’s grown up into a truly compassionate, truly thoughtful person. To witness the boy who had loathed himself, who had doubted he had a future thrive… To take part in that future himself... It’s beautiful.

Something tells him he hadn't ever considered his own place in the future before.

Not even now. As Makoto. Nagisa had been the first one to step in and tell him “you matter too.”

Yeah. He’ll go. He’s not sure if he deserves it, but it’s the least he can do for Nagisa’s hospitality. If nothing else, Nagisa deserves that much. Plus, Nagisa is right. There are some other people he’d like to see.

Makoto grins. The future looks bright. And even making his way back towards a bleak home, there’s a skip in his step as he reflects on not only the escape he’s found, but the kind boy he’s raised.

* * *

Nagisa stares at the door for a good three minutes.

He can hardly process what just happened.

_K… Korosensei… He’s really-_

He feels his breath hitch again. Okay, no. Don’t do that, Nagisa. The last thing he needs to be doing right now is shedding more tears. That’s not what Makoto had wanted. This… This is a good thing. This is the _best_ thing!

He dazedly pats his pocket in search of his phone. Whips it out, and stares at the screen.

He’s acutely aware of the texts he needs to make. It’s only just now he’s realizing his spouses aren’t exactly going to be pleased with his initial slipup, but he can only hope they’ll feel the same joy that’s bursting in his chest when they hear exactly what had gone down after.

He opens their private group chat.

[6/3/2030 7:14 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: Are you guys home yet?

[6/3/2030 7:15 PM:] [Kayano💚]: On my way now!

[6/3/2030 7:15 PM:] [Karma❤️]: Yeah we are. Why are you not home yet? Ended up having to go overtime tutoring the kid?

Ah. He faintly notes he hadn’t actually finished grading Makoto’s science assignment. He’ll have to get around to that.

[6/3/2030 7:16 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: Something like that.

[6/3/2030 7:17 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: Listen. Uh. I’m calling a family meeting when I get home, okay?

[6/3/2030 7:17 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: Some stuff went down.

[6/3/2030 7:18 PM:] [Gakushuu🧡]: What did you do?

[6/3/2030 7:18 PM:] [Gakushuu🧡]: *What happened

[6/3/2030 7:18 PM:] [Gakushuu🧡]: Sorry. That sounded way more accusatory than I intended for it to.

[6/3/2030 7:18 PM:] [Kayano💚]: Is everything okay?

[6/3/2030 7:19 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: Yeah. Don’t worry.

[6/3/2030 7:19 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: I’ll explain it all when I get home.

[6/3/2030 7:19 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: But it’s good.

[6/3/2030 7:20 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: I think.

[6/3/2030 7:21 PM:] [Karma❤️]: About Makoto??

[6/3/2030 7:22 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: Yeah.

[6/3/2030 7:22 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: I also gave out a spare set of housekeys. So expect a guest in the coming days.

[6/3/2030 7:23 PM:] [Gakushuu🧡]: Ah.

[6/3/2030 7:24 PM:] [Kayano💚]: ????

[6/3/2030 7:24 PM:] [Kayano💚]: Is he okay?

[6/3/2030 7:25 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: It’s complicated.

[6/3/2030 7:25 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: Like I said: I’ll explain when I get home.

[6/3/2030 7:26 PM:] [Kayano💚]: Okay!

[6/3/2030 7:26 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: See you soon.

[6/3/2030 7:27 PM:] [Gakushuu🧡]: You too. Be safe.

[6/3/2030 7:27 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: Will do.

[6/3/2030 7:27 PM:] [Nagisa💙]: Love you.

[6/3/2030 7:27 PM:] [Kayano💚]: 💕

[6/3/2030 7:28 PM:] [Karma❤️]: Love you!

[6/3/2030 7:28 PM:] [Gakushuu🧡]: Love you too.

Nagisa sighs and exits the group chat. Okay. That’s that. He has that conversation booked. What was he supposed to do next?

Oh, right!

He opens his DMs with Muramatsu as he begins to pack his books.

[6/3/2030 7:30 PM:] [Nagisa]: Hey.

[6/3/2030 7:30 PM:] [Nagisa]: You there?

[6/3/2030 7:30 PM:] [Nagisa]: Another kid came up.

After high school, Muramatsu had really picked up his old man’s shop. Business is booming, and his dishes are ‘less mediocre tasting than ever,’ if Itona’s ravishing review is anything to go by. He and Nagisa have had an arrangement for the past few years, ever since a similar situation came up at Paradise.

[6/3/2030 7:32 PM:] [Nagisa]: If a Makoto Himura stops by, give him anything on the house. Bill it right to me.

While he’s more than willing to give Makoto food off of his own plate, he realizes there’s something socially isolating about feeling like he's ‘begging for scraps.’ Sometimes a kid just wants to go out and have a real meal. So Nagisa will do his best to arrange things with the connections he has.

[6/3/2030 7:33 PM:] [Nagisa]: He’s a nice kid.

[6/3/2030 7:34 PM:] [Nagisa]: Thanks in advance.

He decides not to mention the whole ‘dead teacher reincarnated’ thing for now. Quite frankly, he’s not sure how to bring that up to his own spouses, much less an ex-classmate he hardly talks to outside of noodle-related affairs.

Jeez. Had he really made that promise to Makoto? That he’d get him back in contact with everyone? It’s only now striking him just how difficult that’s going to be. Everyone’s busy with life. And something tells him they’re not exactly going to believe him on the spot, so it’s not like he can just drop the kid into the group chat.

He’d just been so desperate to get Makoto to hear him out. The terror of letting his life go off the rails again had been petrifying. He’d said the first thing he thought of. It had been a miracle it even worked.

He guesses it’s only the right thing to do, though. Makoto deserves to see them again. Nagisa is a man of his word. And although he’ll advise Makoto against spilling the beans to anyone, he _will_ get him in contact with them. Just… One by one. Sending him Muramatsu’s way, and letting him stop by to visit Karma and Kayano is a good enough start. Now he just needs to get the rest figured out.

He finishes packing his books. And then gently tucks Makoto’s science paper into his folder, wedges it into his bag, and zips it up. He looks around the room for any last things he needs to grab, before slinging his bag over his shoulder and making his way out of the building.

He needs to get on his way home. There’s no doubt his spouses are on the edge of their seat.

He’s not exactly sure how he’s going to break the news to them. Should he tell them the good news or the bad news first? Is there even bad news? Like, yeah, he’d sort of slipped up and told Makoto what he’d directly promised Gakushuu he _wouldn’t_ tell Makoto, but it had all ended up for the best.

...God, Gakushuu’s going to be _pissed._

He can’t exactly fault him for it. If this hadn’t ended up going exactly how it had gone, Nagisa would be pissed at himself, too. He’d sworn he wouldn’t influence Makoto like that. Being told who to be is a bit of a sore spot for he and Gakushuu both.

...But does it really count if Makoto had come to that conclusion _before_ him?

Makoto had certainly been firm about his conclusion. And he’d had proof to back it up. Isn’t that what Gakushuu had wanted? Because if Makoto sharing personal anecdotes isn’t proof, he doesn’t know what is.

Plus, he’s sure Makoto would have brought it up to him eventually, either way. Even if he’d seriously messed up in breaching the topic himself, _not_ saying anything would have only been delaying the inevitable.

...Yeah. He has to be firm about his conclusion, too. He hadn’t done the right thing, but it had ended up playing out the right way.

Life is weird like that.

He’s not sure Kayano will believe him, either. At least, not until she sees Makoto in person. Something tells Nagisa hearing the words out of the horse’s mouth will sell her on the idea.

...He hopes she won’t be too depressed by the other elephant in the room.

He gets it, he really does. Even seeing Makoto talk about his carefree memories, the idea of Yukimura-sensei not being around was weird. She’d deserved better, too.

He doesn’t exactly know how to resolve that. But he supposes all he can do is be there for Kayano. When the grief inevitably resurfaces, he’ll be there to comfort her, as he has a thousand times before.

It’s the least he can do for her.

He has a feeling Karma is going to have a field day. Now that he knows Karma’s been on the “dead teacher reincarnate” train as long as he has, it’s a relief. To know he unequivocally has someone who will back him on this. He probably won’t show it, but Karma will be as excited as a little kid.

How could he _not_ be!? His teacher’s okay!

The very thought puts a skip in Nagisa’s step. And he feels it, too. The depth behind what this means… Although there have certainly been struggles over the past few months, he’s seen Makoto thrive, too. He loves to learn, and he’s steadily starting to understand his lessons. He makes friends everywhere he goes, and he’s surrounded by people fond of him. He finds a reason to laugh about everything, and that excited, familiar, smile of his never once seems to fade.

...He’s happy.

Nagisa doesn’t know exactly how he’s going to get Makoto in contact with the rest of the E-Class. He doesn’t know exactly how he’s going to break the news to his spouses, and he doesn’t know exactly how he plans to deal with Makoto’s home situation yet.

But his teacher is here. And his teacher is happy.

That’s enough to put Nagisa’s worries to rest for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA SORRY ABOUT THAT CIFFHANGER GUYS. Believe it or not, it killed me just as much to leave off the last chapter on that. But I had to. I just couldn’t resist. Gotta put you guys on edge sometimes! And I’m sorry in advance for any big cliffhangers like that in the future. (Because trust me. There WILL be some)
> 
> Yes, yes, of course Makoto is Korosensei. Well. Sort of. The reincarnate of him. Like he said himself: He doesn’t exactly… Remember everything? But he is who I’ve been leading up to him being. It’d be a real dick move of me to NOT confirm that at this point. So here we go! Nine chapters into the fic and we finally know for certain the guy I’ve billed as the reincarnation of Korosensei is indeed Korosensei.
> 
> I had a LOT of fun writing this chapter. It was a very emotionally charged moment for both Nagisa and Makoto. Makoto dealing with finally admitting the truth and “coming home,” and Nagisa dealing with all the grief he’s built up over the past fifteen years being toppled over. But it was a sweet moment, too. And I hope their reunion made you shed as many bittersweet tears as it made me.
> 
> But with that out of the way, there’s only one question left: What now? Nagisa still has a lot to tell his friends and family. And no doubt Makoto’s going to want to embrace his past life to its fullest. This fic is just beginning, and now that I’ve gotten to the first big plot moment, I hope you’ll only continue to enjoy it more and more from here!
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were Do Better by Say Anything, Light by Sleeping at Last, Saturn by Sleeping at Last, the titular Adventures In Solitude by The New Pornographers, and Somewhere Only We Know by Keane.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I don’t think the next chapter will be up by next week considering it’s a very long one, but I’m still writing 1k a day, and I hope you don’t mind the wait and return to every other week too much!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and make sure to tell me what you thought! Seeya soon! :D


	10. Aftershock Time

Karma has a feeling something huge went down before Nagisa even arrives.

When Nagisa enters the house looking like he’s seen a ghost, that just about confirms his suspicions.

The three of them are sitting in the living room. Gakushuu and Kayano lounge on the couch and Karma’s made himself at home on the recliner across from them. Kayano had only ended up getting home a few minutes earlier and was just really getting comfortable when the door creaked open and Nagisa made his entrance

It doesn’t take much observation to note he’s been crying. His eyes are a puffy red. So either he’s been doing copious amounts of Marijuana, or he’s had a massive sobfest. The latter is much more likely considering he works exclusively around children.

Kayano pats the seat next to her. He gives her a nod in acknowledgment and flops down on the right-hand side of the couch. His exhaustion is palpable.

“What on earth happened?” Gakushuu asks.

“Well, I have good news and bad news,” he says (Which is always a wonderful thing to hear!) “Well, I’m not sure if I actually have bad ne-” he starts, but pauses. “Wait. No. I definitely have bad news. I’ll start with that. That’s the most comprehensible thing here.”

_ That’s a great sign! _

“Okay, so, like I said: Makoto. I gave him an extra set of house keys. I managed to find out that things weren’t too good at home.” Nagisa sighs. “His dad’s pretty clearly neglecting him.”

“...Ah,” Karma says.

That… Explains a lot. Growing up unsupervised is a double-edged sword. On one hand, yeah, it really sucks to miss out on basic familial affection. On the other hand, you _ do _ learn street smarts real quick. You need to when you end up acting out every day in a desperate plea for attention.

The whole wacky whimsical stabbing thing makes a lot more sense now.

“I don’t think he’s being hit or anything, but he is being borderline starved. I’m going to be keeping a close eye on him in the future. I also sent a text Muramatsu’s way-- But I’m hoping to give him a place to stay here.” 

“Of course,” Kayano says. Karma nods along.

Nagisa inviting students over is nothing new. He’s worked with high-risk, misbehaving, and oftentimes impoverished students for the majority of his career. It’s not something his spouses particularly mind. Admittedly it tends to end in a smashed TV or two, but it’s nice to have another face around the house. And, y’know, to salvage futures and stuff. But mostly the ‘you need at least five people to party’ thing.

Plus, with the whole crackpot conspiracy theory they have going on, something tells Karma Makoto is more than welcome around the house. They need to get to the bottom of this, after all.

“So what’s the good news?” Kayano asks.

“Oh, well--” Nagisa drifts off, searching for the words.

And speak of the devil. He can’t be certain, but Karma has a feeling he knows where this conversation is headed.

“If I may go out on a limb:” he speaks up. “Something to do with Korosensei?”

Nagisa shoots him a relieved look. “Yeah,” he says. “Something to do with Korosensei.”

_ Ah. So Nagisa’s found another clue, has he? _

All eyes are on Nagisa. Kayano leans closer. Gakushuu’s uncomfortably fiddling with his tie.

“Well, then. Let us in on it! We’re all a pro-Korosensei household here,” Karma insists. “How shocking can it possibly be?”

“He told me he’s Korosensei.”

Karma chokes.

_ THAT’S A LITTLE MORE THAN A CLUE! _

“He  **_what!?”_ ** Gakushuu shouts.

“W-When!? How!?” Kayano asks.

The room explodes into chatter in an instant. Nagisa can’t even get a word in.

“Okay, okay! Shut up, everyone!” Karma interjects. “Let the man explain!”

“...Okay,” Kayano says.

And every eye is on Nagisa once more.

“It actually… Came up because of the neglect thing,” Nagisa admits. “I was trying to offer him help and get more details on the situation, and it got… Really intense. He wasn’t cooperating with me… And I…" He pauses, before meekly admitting "SortaadmittedIthoughthewasKorosensei.”

Gakushuu’s reaction is instantaneous. “You  **_WHAT!?”_ ** he growls, rushing to his feet. Kayano has to grab him by the back of his shirt. Nagisa flinches back.

“I- I know it was a bit of a slip-up-”

_ “A slip-up!?  _ **_You promised!”_ ** Gakushuu’s voice cracks with anger. He tears away from Kayano’s grasp, but doesn’t make a motion to head towards Nagisa. Instead, he stares him down with those piercing eyes.

Nagisa doesn’t meet his gaze. “...Okay, no. I really fucked up,” he admits. “Even if it was just a moment of impulse, I broke your trust. And that wasn’t right of me.”

Gakushuu doesn’t speak.

“But please: Hear me out. I’ll explain the full extent of what went down. And then you can make your decision.”

Gakushuu hesitates, sending Nagisa a vitriolic glare, but hesitantly sits down as Karma pulls him back.

Karma can’t exactly blame the guy for being pissed. He has daddy issues with a capital D. He’d been told who he was supposed to be his entire life. And if he and Nagisa had actually had a talk about specifically  _ avoiding this? _ Hoooo boy. That said, Nagisa has a tenancy to clam up, and giving him a panic attack isn’t exactly going to help either of them in this situation.

He’s a little peeved at how Nagisa handed this, too, anyway. But he’s also not sure if he’d have done anything differently in Nagisa's shoes. He knows his Sensei well enough to know he’s a nosey bitch.

“As soon as I said it, Makoto started… Staring at me. And then, with this big grin on his face, he went ‘You think I’m Korosensei too, don’t you?’” Nagisa explains.

“Oh my God,” Kayano says.

“Well, someone sounds certain,” Karma quips.

“When I was like ‘Hey, wait. What the hell does that mean?’ He scrambled over, sat down, and explained. The tension in the room shifted immediately. It’s like he’d completely forgotten I was arguing with him. That this was… Way more important to him.” Nagisa pauses. “And it was. I really think it was.” 

Karma cocks an eyebrow. 

“He told me… He’d dreamt of the E-Class his entire life. About Kunugigaoka. And about us. That he could never really make sense of it, but that the moment he heard about Constellate he flipped out. He admitted he didn’t remember everything. Not even… All of our names,” he awkwardly explains. “But that he knew this place was important to him, even though he’d never been here. That those people were important to him, even if he didn’t know who they were.”

The idea of Korosensei not remembering them is… Weird at best, and unnerving at worst. But to be fair, Karma would probably have trouble remembering all of his classmates in the same situation. He has enough trouble remembering half his background-character-esque classmates as is, seeing as how sometimes it seems their entire personalities boil down to “I make shitty food” or “I’m into motorcycles.” 

...On second thought, maybe that’s just his distaste for the Terasaka Squad showing.

“Of course, none of that was enough for him to come to any conclusions. At least, not until he started attending Constellate. He said the moment he stepped in the building, things got crazy intense and specific. He started remembering things like assassination attempts. Or… Mebeingalittlebitshorterbutnotmuch.” Nagisa’s face flushes pink, his ‘has been the height of a middle schooler his entire life’ complex clear as day. “And some of these things he told me were, like, not only super in depth, but super obscure. Do you, uh - Remember Okuda’s assassination attempt?”

_ How could he forget? _ Korosensei nyooming around the room and his prior impromptu Sonic the fucking Hedgehog cosplay was an event for the ages. Okuda was someone Karma’d always kept a close eye on, namely because he’d been convinced with enough badgering she would finally make him some cyanide, chlorine glass, or at least “a Benadryl.”

...She had not ended up making him a Benadryl. 

That said, however, he  _ does  _ remember her attempt on Korosensei’s life. Karma nods, as does Kayano.

“No. I don’t remember any of this,” Gakushuu reminds, with an irritated skepticism in his voice that seems to imply _ ‘and neither does Makoto.’ _

“Well… Basically, he told me all about how he remembered ‘some girl’ struggling with her Language classes. And how she thought she was okay off because she was good at Science. But he helped her concoct a formula to kill him while also helping her figure out a way to sell him on chugging something that was most-definitely poison.”

“Which is… Exactly what happened,” Kayano clarifies. “Minus the ‘some girl’ thing. Okuda has a name.”

_ ‘Aw! C’mon, Kayano. Okuda may have been your best friend and all, but it’s probably for the best to admit she’s pretty forgettable too.’ _ Karma thinks, completely throwing his cyanide dealer under the bus.

“He had a few super specific stories like that. He also told me about Ritsu ‘going apeshit.’” Nagisa pauses. “His words, not mine!”

Eh. Karma figures ‘apeshit’ is pretty much how he’d word it, too.

“And… I can’t figure any way he’d know these things without… Well, telling the truth about this.  _ No-one _ knew these things,” Nagisa says. “We kept it all to ourselves. It was our secret. So hearing him say that himself… That he knew all this… Oh my God. You have no idea how overwhelming it was-”

Kayano nods. “...I can imagine. I’m getting a little overwhelmed just talking about this.”

“I… I’ll admit I started crying,” Nagisa says. “I just couldn’t take it-”

Mmmyep. Karma had deduced that one out ten minutes ago. “Yeah. You looked pretty exhausted coming in through the door,” he admits. “I figured you’d been crying.”

“...Yeah. A lot,” Nagisa sheepishly admits. “The idea of him having a second chance was just… Too much. Too good to be true. And… As soon as I started crying, he hugged me. And patted my back. And said,  ‘Hey. Don’t cry. I’m right here.’ And I lost my mind, guys. I know my Sensei. And the reassuring way he held me...  _ That was him-”  _ He’s getting choked up again just talking about it.

Kayano places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Gakushuu’s still.

“That’s it. It sealed the deal for me. I know for certain: He’s Korosensei. I mean, come on! He remembers everything-”

‘Everything’ being a massive exaggeration considering Nagisa _ just  _ admitted he didn’t remember Okuda’s name, but Karma will let that one slide.

“That’s… That’s great!” Kayano says. She’s trying to keep collected, but Karma can spot a massive grin turning up the corners of her lips.

“Indeed,” Karma agrees. “B-”

Gakushuu cuts him off.

“And how do we know you didn’t just tell him all of that?”

Nagisa stares. 

“...W...What?”

“How do we know he actually remembered all of that, and that you didn’t just tell him everything?” he indignantly repeats.

_ “Gakushuu-!” _ Kayano hisses.

“I- I would never--” Nagisa sputters. “This is too important to me-”

“Exactly,” Gakushuu says. “Am I really supposed to believe you’re not seeing what you want to see in that boy?  _ For ~Korosensei’s sake?~” _

**_“Gakushuu-”_ ** Kayano sternly repeats.

“What!? You know I’m right, Akari,” he snaps. 

“No. I  _ think you’re being an asshole,” _ Kayano argues.

Gakushuu’s fist clenches. “It’s not fair to him!” he snarls. 

“I know it’s not!” Nagisa refutes. “I never said it was. I know I shouldn’t have said what I said. But he told me himself-”

“You say!” Gakushuu refutes. “There are  _ all  _ sorts of ways to get into someone’s mind and subconscious! How do I know he came to that conclusion himself!?”

Nagisa stares blankly. “N- N- No!” He sputters. “I… W… No-! I would  _ never!” _

_ “Cut it out,” _ Kayano demands. “You’re being a jackass.”

_“I’m_ being a jackass!?” Gakushuu repeats in disbelief. “I’m the only one looking out for this kid!”

“I am looking out for him as much as I can!” Nagisa butts in.

“Then why am I the only one worried about what this is going to do to him!? A middle schooler should not be occupied with who he was in a ‘past life!’”

“He was already thinking about it before I said it-”

“You say! I’m hesitant to believe that one, Nagisa!”

“So you’re calling me a liar?”

“Yes! I am!”

Karma's head darts back and forth, and his breath quickens. He feels anger rise in his chest, but before he can deduce who at Kayano bolts to her feet with an exasperated  **_“Get out-”_ **

“Excuse me!?”

“Get out. You’re just making Nagisa upset, and you’re not contributing anything to this conversation. If you think you’re the only one who has any stakes in or issues with this situation, then you are a _ self-centered asshole _ . The rest of us are  _ plenty _ upset about what’s going on, so unless you think you’re allowed to make a rational assessment about our teacher,  _ a man you never met, mind you,  _ **_get out.”_ **

Gakushuu’s jaw drops. “I… I…” he says. And he gets to his feet. “Fine,” He snaps. “I see I’m not wanted.” He storms out of the room and firmly shuts the door with a thud.

Karma only faintly realizes he hadn’t spoken an entire word that entire conversation as he watches him go. His breathing is ragged, but he slowly unclenches his fist. 

He doesn't know what he's supposed to think. Because here’s the thing: he doesn’t exactly think either of them are completely wrong. (A rare occurrence with him.) He firmly believes that boy’s his teacher in the flesh. But Gakushuu makes a very fair point in bringing up that’s something potentially insanely influential for a child to be dealing with.

That said, however, he doesn’t think Nagisa made it up. And… He thinks he wants his teacher to remember him.

Nagisa sighs. “...You shouldn’t have said that, Kayano.”

“He was being an inconsiderate jerk.”

“You should still apologize to him-”

“I just don’t like that he thinks he can talk to you that way-!”

“It’s not like it’s a regular occurrence, Kayano. He’s just really stressed about this.” Nagisa pauses. “I should talk to him,” he says, standing. “Just the two of us. That… That wasn’t how that was supposed to go-” As he steadies his breaths, an icy calm look that Karma hates forms in his eyes.

Karma stands, too. “Don’t,” he says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll burn himself out in time.”

He knows Nagisa’s ‘snake eyes’ all too well. What he’d at one point considered scary, he’s now come to know as ‘Nagisa dissociating in a desperate attempt to stay calm during tense situations as a result of extreme trauma.’ It’s a lot less cool when you word it that way and a lot more sad. But it’s equal parts depressing and traumatizing if the situation escalates enough. He hates it when Nagisa lets himself get that detached.

“But-”

“Please. He’s stubborn. Just give him space.” Karma gets it. He’s similar. When he’s mad, he’s  _ mad.  _ Nothing much can simmer him down other than time. Or a fistfight. But mostly time. 

He supposes that’s why he tries not to get too invested in arguments nowadays. That said, hearing his husbands be called a ‘manipulative liar’ and a ‘self-centered-asshole’ in the same breath stings a little.

Nagisa sighs but relents. “Fine,” he says, awkwardly sitting down.

His emotion returns to his eyes. He seems ashamed. 

“I know I went about that wrong. I shouldn’t have told him. But he did tell me everything else himself. I would never make that up-”

“I know, Nagisa,” Kayano says. “I believe you.”

Karma decides it’s due time for a topic change. He’ll deal with Gakushuu himself. “Well, then. He better be stopping by, soon.” He pauses. “The boy in question. I mean, you gave the kid house keys. We better be seeing our teacher for ourselves, soon. You can't hog all the heartfelt reunions.”

“Of course,” Nagisa says. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped by tomorrow. He was really excited to see you two.” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “I feel like if I hadn’t told him it was time to get heading home, he would have tried to drop by today.”

“Awww. Why didn’t you let him?”

“It was seven o'clock, Karma.” 

“So? The night’s still young! Me and him have very important things to discuss, I’ll have you know.”

“Do I want to know?” Nagisa asks.

“Nope. Remember? I’m a wild card.” 

For one, he’s _ really _ gotta bring up the whole stabbing thing. He has a quaint idea about how he can use that topic to his advantage. But he decides to leave that one as a surprise for Nagisa and Kayano.

“Karma, I am literally  _ begging _ you not to bully the child,” Kayano says.

“Hey! Hey! I never said I’d  _ bully _ him… Just maybe poke fun at him a little.”

“And I’m sure he’ll be very proud of how much you’ve grown up.” Kayano snidely comments.

“Damn right! As obnoxious as ever, but six foot _ and _ a massively successful bureaucrat? He’ll be delighted by how I’ve managed to achieve my dreams without ~changing who I am~ or whatever.”

Kayano snorts. “I guess you’re right. If you’d suddenly become a model citizen, he’d be like ‘this can’t be right! Where’s my most disobedient boy!?’”

“‘My most disobedient boy?’” Karma repeats.

“Student. The word you’re looking for is student,” Nagisa says.

“That’s the one,” Kayano replies.

Karma snickers. 

“Listen. We’ve all had a long day. Excuse me for not remembering my basic vocabulary,” Kayano says.

A silence falls over the room.

“...So that’s that?” Karma asks.

“...That’s that, I suppose,” Nagisa replies. “That’s all I had to say about Makoto. That… He’s Sensei, yeah.”

“Well that wasn’t too hard, was it?” Karma asks. But the empty spot across from him on the couch is hard to ignore.

“I guess,” Nagisa admits. “I... Should have gone about that differently. I mean, I don’t know how, but there had to be a way of saying that without upsetting Gakushuu.”

Karma shrugs. “I wouldn’t overthink it. He’s emotional.” And Nagisa had hit a sore spot. He was bound to upset Gakushuu no matter what he said. “I’ll talk to him later, okay? After he’s had some time to brood.”

“I mean, I don’t think he’s going to just drop this one-”

“And I don’t expect him to,” Karma replies. “But I’ll try to hear him out when he’s less in the moment.”

Nagisa gives a tiny nod. “I just feel bad this is causing so many arguments. I’m stressed too, but… I’d like to think it’s a good thing. I really would. So I don’t want this tearing us apart.”

“Tearing us apart?” Karma snorts. “Don’t worry about that, Nagisa. We’ve been through way worse. A little bit of dead teacher drama is nothing. Give him time. Something tells me he’ll change his tune once he actually meets Makoto.”

The kid had an energy to him. And even if he’s never met Korosensei, something tells Karma Gakushuu will feel it. He’s persuasive and he’s charismatic. It’s hard not to fall under his spell.

In that way, he actually reminds Karma of himself a little.

“And for the record,” he says “I’m glad you told all of us right away. I don’t think I could have stood it if you’d hidden all of that from us for weeks on end again.” Korosensei is a them issue. And as Nagisa’s spouses, so are Nagisa’s thoughts.

“Jeez, no,” Nagisa says. “I don’t think I could have stood it either,” he admits. “I just hope you’re right. About Gakushuu.”

“Hey. I was right about Makoto, wasn’t I? I’ll be right about this, too.”

And laying back in his recliner, Karma closes his eyes. Because he knows he will be.

* * *

And true to Nagisa’s word, Makoto shows up the next day.

Kayano’s in the lounge working on replying to some emails when she hears Nagisa unlock the door, boisterous footsteps in tow. An impressed “Wow!” echoes from the other room. Kayano pockets her phone, stands and makes her way towards the door, but Karma, sitting on the arm of the other couch, shakes his head.

“Let’s not pounce on the poor kid,” he says, in a tone barely masking the fact that he’d love to ‘pounce on’ the poor kid as well. “We don’t wanna overwhelm him. Let him get a look around the place first. Then Nagisa can bring him in here.”

“Fair,” Kayano replies, taking a seat on the couch and shouting “We’re in here!” over her shoulder.

“Coming!” Nagisa shouts back.

Gakushuu is nowhere to be found. He hadn’t wanted part in this reunion. Instead, he’s in the guest room sulking. He’s been avoiding them all day. Karma’d talked it over with him last night, but he hadn’t shared the details of how that had gone with Kayano.

Now that she’s had some time to cool off, she’ll admit she’d been a little harsh with him. But the moment had just felt so heated. All of them had had worries about what had gone down with Makoto. She hated the way he’d acted like the only rational one in the room when there were things bothering all of them about this.

...Even if her worries were distinctly different than his.

Still, she’d hit a sore spot. And she’ll apologize. When he apologizes to Nagisa. She’s not budging until then, at least. She figures she owes herself that much dignity.

The footsteps grow louder, and the boys make their entrance.

Kayano’s not sure what she expected Makoto to look like- But what she’s met with is a perfectly ordinary kid. With dark messy hair and dark eyes, he stands just barely over five feet. He doesn’t strike her as particularly different than any other kid Nagisa’s taught in the past.

Then she meets his eyes, and she finally gets what Nagisa’s been talking about.

He’s staring at them with complete wonder. Bouncing from foot to foot; excitedly fidgeting. And the ecstatic grin on his face stretches from ear to ear. 

“H-hey!” he says, his voice cracking with something overwhelming. “Kayano! Karma!”

Is it… Pride?

He can’t hold back a second longer. He rushes towards them. And before she knows it, she’s being tackled by a bundle of excited twelve-year-old. She falls back on the couch as he seizes her in a hug. “It’s so good to see you again! I missed you!” 

“A-Ah! Makoto-!” Nagisa says, scrambling to his side. “Be careful-”

“No, no- It’s fine,” Kayano reassures, having to hold back a laugh. She returns Makoto’s hug. “I missed you too...” She pauses. “...Sensei.” 

And it feels so, so right to say.

He’s quivering like an overexcited puppy. But it’s not much sooner then he’s buried himself in her neck when Karma speaks up.

“Hey. No hugs for your real favorite?”

“Hey! I don’t have superspeed!” Makoto whines. But he’s already weaseling his way away from Kayano and making a divebomb towards Karma.

And for one second, she briefly worries he’ll knock Karma off the couch. But as over prepared for this situation as any, Karma catches the feverishly excited boy in his arms. He’s got Makoto in a hug before Makoto can even wrap his arms around his shoulders.

“Yes, yes. I missed you, Karma!”

“Good, good.” Karma smiles, content. But quickly that relieved smile grows into a devilish grin. He tosses Makoto back over his shoulder. Makoto lets out a surprised yelp, seeing as how he’s now being suspended upside down. _ “Because we need to talk.” _

“Karma!” Nagisa shouts.

Karma ignores him completely. He stands, his grip tight on the wriggling Makoto. “Sensei,” he says, his tone indecipherable.

“What!?” Makoto wails, elbowing his back.

“Sensei.”

_ “WHAT!?”  _ Makoto’s wail grows into a shriek.

Karma can’t keep that cool collected facade for long. His voice edging on giggles, he says “Why’d you stab me, Sensei?” Kayano hadn’t thought it was possible for a voice to simultaneously drip with so much malice and amusement at the same time.

“That’s what this is about!?” Makoto cries in disbelief.

“Karma! Let go of him!” Kayano snaps.

“Why’d you stab me, Sensei?”

“Karma!” Nagisa shouts in a voice all too sadly used to this.

“Why’d you stab me, Sensei?”

**_“I DUNNO, KARMA! WHY DID YOU STAB ME WITH A KNIFE!?”_ ** Makoto shrieks. “SOMETIMES YOU DO THINGS JUST BECAUSE! AND SOMETIMES YOU DO THINGS BECAUSE YOU REALLY WANNA GET BACK AT SOMEONE!”

Karma smiles, content, and drops Makoto back on the couch.

“Gotcha,” He says with a smirk.

“‘Scuse me?” Makoto asks as he sits back up. 

“I know you’re our guy,” Karma says matter-of-factly. “You’re our Sensei.”

“Like there’d been any doubt!” Makoto hisses.

Kayano’s still completely lost. What’s he going on about? “And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?”

“When Makoto stabbed me,” Karma proudly explains. “It was weeks before Nagisa let him in on any of this. If his motive was really to ‘get back at me’ like he just admitted, then he remembered the little trick I pulled long before Nagisa breathed a word of this to him.” He looks Makoto’s way. “He’s our Sensei alright.”

He pauses.

“Plus, y’know: The way he shrieked when I tossed him over my shoulder was  _ so _ Korosensei. That pathetic horror and desperation? I’d recognize it anywhere.”

Makoto’s face flushes with embarrassment. “Glad to see you haven’t changed at all, Karma…” he grumbles.

“Well, that was some wonderful detective work, Karma,” Kayano admits, holding back a giggle. Yeah, she’d pretty much already believed Nagisa, but it’s nice to have more proof. “But you really didn’t have to torture the kid to get that answer.”

“Literally? Of course not. But emotionally? It was an irresistible notion.”

“Asshole,” she quips in response, before quickly looking Makoto’s way. “Er-! Jerk. Sorry.”

_ “Are you censoring yourself because I’m your teacher or because I’m a kid?” _

To be frank, Kayano herself doesn’t even know the answer to that one!

He turns Karma’s way. “Hey! Hey! It’s okay, though. I mean, he just did what I taught him to, right? Glad to see he remembers after all these years.” He smiles. “Keep up the good work!”

Nagisa sighs. “Please don’t encourage him.”

“Nope! You heard our sensei. It’s waterboarding time.”

“KARMA HE IS TWELVE AND IF YOU WATERBOARD HIM I WILL PERSONALLY GUT YOU LIKE A FISH.”

Makoto giggles. “But you guys have definitely changed a little, too. I’m glad to see you’re finally willing to stand up for yourself against him, Nagisa.”

“Comes with years of experience,” Nagisa sheepishly admits. “After a while, you just get used to it.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

There are things Makoto doesn’t notice, too. Kayano’s 98% certain that if Nagisa had threatened to ‘gut Karma like a fish’ fifteen years ago, Karma would have just about  _ pissed himself. _ By now, she knows all about Karma’s little complex. And with Makoto putting it into words like that… It’s hard not to be proud of how far their relationship has come.

“You too, Kayano!” Makoto says, his head shooting her way. “You’re so grown up! And so pretty! I saw one of your movies a few months ago! It was sososososo good! Though really sad, too! I started crying! A lot! But I guess that’s okay because it means you did a good job!”

Kayano giggles. “Well, thank you!” She says, taking an awkward half-bow half-lean considering she's sitting on the couch. She can’t exactly place her finger on which movie he’s talking about, considering she’s participated in a fair number of tearjerkers, but that’s besides the point.

“You’re all so good at what you do! Even you, Karma!” Makoto rambles. “It’s so, so, so cool to see what you’re all doing! I wanna see it all! Tell me about everything!” 

“Maybe not today, buddy,” Nagisa says with a laugh. “We’ve had a  _ long  _ fifteen years. But remember, you’re welcome here anytime. So there’s plenty of time to catch up.”

Kayano nods. “Let’s watch more of my movies together sometime, okay? There’s a few I’m really proud of.” 

Makoto nods vigorously.  “I’d love that!”

“Well, shucks,” Karma says. “Gonna have a bit more trouble showcasing my work to him. There isn’t exactly a ‘bring your dead teacher into work day.’”

Makoto pouts. “Well, there should be!”

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

“And I suppose you already know most of how I’ve been doing, huh?” Nagisa says. “I mean, you come to my school every day. What do you think…?” He pauses and glances to the side. “Of what I’ve done to the place?”

“I think it’s great, Nagisa!” Makoto proclaims. “Having air conditioning so I can breathe is a nice touch.”

“Yeah. I thought so too.” Nagisa says, cracking a smile.

“But you haven’t showed me  _ everything.”  _ Makoto continues. “You haven’t told me about all your other students! From before this year! Were they nice? Or did they beat the shit out of y-”

“One student took a baseball bat to our television,” Karma interjects.

“Ah! I see!  _ Those _ kind of students,” Makoto notes with a knowing smile. “Are they doing good? I wanna meet them, too!”

“One thing at a time, Makoto,” Nagisa says. 

“Okay, okay, okay. But one day!” he replies. “And you gotta tell me about how you all got together, too! More than just ‘WcDonalds!’” 

“We will, we will,” Nagisa says. “But I’m saving that one for the whole class. Remember? I promised.”

Makoto nods vigorously. “But I’ll get, like, the director’s cut, right? All the saucy secret stuff you can’t say in front of them!”

“I try not to keep secrets with my students…” Nagisa admits with a laugh.

“Says the guy who won’t even tell me what _ really _ happened to the moon!” Makoto huffs. “Which reminds me!” He turns his head towards Kayano, then Karma. “You guys gotta tell me all about the things from back then, too! Nagisa’s bringing in the yearbook to show it off, but I bet he won’t remember  _ everything. _ And I want to know it all! Because…” He pauses. “I think this was all really important to me. So it still is now.”

Kayano nods. “...Of course. We’ll share everything.”

Admittedly, the idea of him not remembering moments between them is… Bittersweet. She’s happy he can move on with his new life, but some of her fondest memories come from that year at Kunugigaoka. And moreso than that, she can’t help but feel there are some things Korosensei would never have wanted to forget.

...People Korosensei would never have wanted to forget.

“Hey. Sensei,” she says. “Do you remember…-” But drifts off as he turns his head her way. He looks at her with an overjoyed grin, and she feels her heart sink. “...Uh-” She says. “That time we made a giant pudding?” she improvises.

...Okay. So maybe she won’t share _ everything. _ She can’t make him feel that again.

“What!? No!” Makoto replies, his eyes wide with wonder. “We made a giant pudding!? What’s giant!? How big’s giant!?” he demands.

“I dunno…” Kayano says. “Only taller than the school.”

“No fair! No fair!” Makoto cries. “I wanna eat a giant pudding again!”

...He deserves to live in a world where his biggest worries are over giant pudding, not lives lost.

Kayano forces a smile.

“Yeah! It was awesome,” she says. “Not sure I can do it again, though. It was sort of my magnum opus, you know?

“Well it’s time for a magnum opus two!” Makoto huffs.

“I don’t exactly have government funding on my hand this time.”

“Yes you do!” Makoto says, dramatically pointing at Karma. “Karma, make her make me a giant pudding.”

“Well, you heard the man,” Karma says. “Now you’ve  _ gotta.” _

“It’s your paycheck, Karma,” she reminds him. “If that’s really what you want…”

Makoto snickers. Karma rolls his eyes, but doesn’t exactly turn down the idea, either.

“Oh! Yeah!” Makoto says, finally distracted from the topic of ‘gargantuan pudding’ “There was something else I was meaning to ask you guys. What was it again?” He flicks his finger against the side of his head. “...Right!” He exclaims. “Where’s Asano? How’s he doing? I thought he was a part of this family.”

“He is,” Nagisa quickly reassures. “He’s just… Not in the best mood right now.”

Makoto frowns. “Oh. Is it because of me?”

“No, no--” Nagisa quickly reassures, brushing off Makoto’s scarily accurate insight. “You didn’t do anything.”

“...Can I try and talk to him?” Makoto asks.

“I dunno if that’s the best idea,” Nagisa admits. “I think he just wants to be left alone.”

“Pretty please? Just a little bit! I won’t bother him too much.”

“Makoto--”

“What’s the worst that can happen? He’ll yell at me a little? I won’t care!”

“He won’t yell at you-”

“Then I don’t see the issue here. Just let me stop by and say hello. I wanna see how he grew up, too!”

Makoto sends puppy dog eyes Nagisa’s way. And that must be enough to make him crack, because he lowers his shoulders and lets out a reluctant “I guess.” 

“Yes!” Makoto proclaims, already bolting to his feet.

“Just ask him first! If he doesn’t want to talk, give him some space.”

“I will! I will! Don’t you worry!” And with that, Makoto’s off. 

Kayano’s only just noting they _ hadn’t even told him where Gakushuu was  _ when Nagisa shouts “He’s in the guest room! Take a right down the hallway!” Over his shoulder. Whether or not Makoto heard him is unclear, because he does not grace them with a response.

Kayano lets out an exhausted laugh. “...Is he always like that?”

Nagisa and Karma speak up at once. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“...Well I’m glad to see he’s as stubborn as ever.” She pauses, staring down the hallway. “Do you think that’s going to be okay? Him bugging Gakushuu?”

“They’ll be fine,” Karma reassures. “Gakushuu knows how to stand up for himself. If he doesn’t wanna hear it, he won’t hear it. He’s plenty stubborn, too.” 

That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen: An unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. But Nagisa pipes up before she can voice that thought.

“Plus, I trust Gakushuu not to, like, snap at him. He’s patient with the kids.”

It’s true. Nagisa’s brought home a fair number of students over the past eight years. And inexplicably, sometimes it seems Gakushuu is the most patient of all with them. Even when Konishi had wrecked their house, he’d only let the faintest twinge of irritation show. Insanely contradictorily to his actual emotions, seeing as how the moment they’d been alone he’d buried his face in his hands and screamed.

If he could face that with a calm and collected face, surely a little bit of Korosensei-esque shenanigans will be nothing in comparison.

“You’re right,” she says. “I just hope this won’t stress him out more.” But she quickly decides it’s time for a topic change. Now that the elephant in the room that is Makoto is out of the way they’ll have plenty of time to talk to their moody spouse once he leaves. “...It’s weird seeing him again. Korosensei, I mean.”

Nagisa nods. “...Yeah. All through class today, I kept getting this surreal feeling. Like… ‘I’m his teacher, huh?’ I… Never could have dreamt up anything like this.”

“...He’s different.” Kayano admits. Rasher. Blunter... Happier. “I mean, not a lot, but a little.”

“So are we, I suppose,” Karma points out. “It’s been a long time. He’s led a new life.” 

Kayano nods. 

“It’s nice seeing him, I think,” Karma admits.

“Of course you’d think that, seeing as how you got to torture him.” Nagisa quips.

“I didn’t _ torture him.” _ Karma rebukes. “I was just reliving some memories. For old times sake!”

“Memories of Korosensei screaming his ass off?”

Karma nods sagely. “Memories of Korosensei screaming his ass off.”

That reminds her. “...It’s crazy. Thinking that he doesn’t remember everything.” She pauses. “That he doesn’t remember most things.”

“Yeah…” Nagisa admits, nervously scratching his shoulder. “But I think that’s for the best. I mean… He’d seen some messed up stuff. If… If he only ever remembers the good things that went down in that classroom, I think it’s for the best.”

Kayano frowns. Indeed, she’d come to the same conclusion. But it’s depressing to hear Nagisa second it. She quietly nods.

Nagisa must notice the look on her face. He always was good at seeing through her acting. At least, after learning just how much he’d failed to notice in middle school. “...You wanted to bring up Aguri earlier, didn’t you?”

“Ah. That explains the awkward pudding transition,” Karma comments.

Kayano nods. “Yeah. But you’re right. It’s just not right. We don’t need him asking questions we can’t give him fair answers to. If… If we tell him about her, his first question will be ‘where is she?’”

_...Gone. She’s gone forever. And he’s not. _

“I’m not putting him through that heartbreak. That’d be selfish of me.” 

Here’s the thing… She’d been over Aguri.

Well, not over. You don’t get over your dead sister. Aguri had practically raised her. Looking back on it, she served more of the role of a mother than anything. She’d been deeply important to Kayano.

But it had also been fifteen years. She’d _ moved on.  _ It didn’t hurt when she thought about her anymore. Aguri was simply a happy memory to look back on. Kayano had gone on with her life. And she’d been certain that somewhere her lost sister was proud of her.

...Now she’s not so sure. And it seems to open the wound all over again. After years of feeling okay, that stings.

She supposes she just has to tell herself that she’d be okay with this. That she’d be happy for Korosensei. She’d never once complained about the life she led. And she’d died proud of her legacy.

...At least, that’s what Kayano likes to think.

“...It’s not selfish, Kayano,” Nagisa says, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. “I know why you feel the way you do. And I’m sorry for putting this on you-”

“You’re not putting anything on me,” she reassures. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so. But… While we’re working through… All of this, remember I’m here for you, okay?”

_ “We’re  _ here for you,” Karma butts in. “Me and Gakushuu may not be into you, but we’re still your family. So when Nagisa’s being dense, always remember we have your back.”

“Hey-!” Nagisa says.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” He looks Kayano’s way.

“...Maybe a little,” she cheekily admits. 

Nagisa pouts in response. 

“Thanks, though,” she says. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And she appreciates it. She doesn’t say that enough, but she appreciates it.

With the heaviness in her chest that she just can’t seem to shake, now she needs it more than ever.

* * *

Gakushuu heard the kid enter the house. He anticipated that much. He did not, however, anticipate the child barging into his room.

He’s in the guest room, laptop to his side, and book open across his lap when the door creaks open and the infamous Makoto peeks his head in.

“Hey!” he says. “I finally found you! Looked all over the house!”

‘It’s  _ really _ not that difficult to find the guest room’ Gakushuu notes, but does not speak up. He gives Makoto a curt nod.

Makoto pays no mind to the awkward air of the room. “I’m just gonna invite myself in, okay?” he says, stepping into the room. 

He doesn’t particularly stand out. From Nagisa’s description, Gakushuu’d somehow expected to see a boy with an uncannily wide smile. But there’s no resemblance to the enigmatic Korosensei to be found here. Black hair. A tad heavyset. Decently dressed. He’s… Just a kid.

_ Yeah. That’s what Gakushuu had thought. _

“Hope you don’t mind me peeking my head in!” Makoto continues. “I’m just so thrilled to meet you! Can we talk a little? I know we weren’t exactly acquainted, but… I figured it’s still my job to check up on you!”

Gakushuu snorts. It’s clear if he doesn’t intervene, no-one will. Why does he always have to be the responsible one?

“I don’t mind,” he says. “Come in, come in.” He scoots over and beckons the boy his way. “You’re Makoto, right?”

Makoto quickly nods. “The one and only!” He says, taking a seat next to Gakushuu. “And you’re Asano!” He pauses. “We’re not exactly on ‘Gakushuu’ terms, are we?”

“No. We’re not,” Gakushuu confirms. He _ just _ met this kid. As his teacher, Nagisa may not mind being disrespected that way, but Gakushuu finds it more than a little weird.

“Okay,” Makoto says, turning his attention towards Gakushuu’s lap. “Watch’ya reading?”

Gakushuu’s eyes drift towards his lap. “Ah... That. Nothing special,” he admits. It’s some meandering romance novel “I’m mostly just looking for something to take my mind off of work.” He motions towards his laptop. That’s a bit of a lie. More than anything, he’s looking for a way to take his mind off of the fact that his husband blatantly lied to him over this kid.

“Cool! Is it good?"

“Mmm.” Gakushuu shrugs.

Makoto falls silent. Gakushuu feels bad for giving him the cold shoulder, but he doesn’t exactly know what to say. 

“So...” Makoto says. “A CEO, huh? It must be cool being so successful.”

Gakushuu gives another shrug. “It’s simply the result of much hard work.”

“Well, that’s good,” Makoto replies. “It’s important not to lose that ethic. It’s nice to see you’re as diligent as ever!”

“Mmmm.”

“I bet your dad’s proud of you,” he adds on. And Gakushuu feels his heart stop in his chest. “I worked with him back in the day, you know!  _ Very _ smart guy.” He pauses. “You actually look just like him, now.”

Gakushuu feels disgust rise in the back of his gut. It’s bad enough to hear that from himself in front of the mirror each morning, much less from some kid who has  _ no idea what he’s talking about.  _

_ “Actually,”  _ Gakushuu says. “Me and my dad don’t talk. So if you think you worked with the man, I think you got the wrong impression.”

They haven’t talked for years. Sometimes, it still makes Gakushuu sad. But… He feels better about himself now that he’s no longer in contact with his dad. At least, he thinks so.

...It’s hard to tell sometimes.

Makoto shies back. “...Oh,” he says. He stares downwards. “...That’s sad.”

“Yeah. It is.” Gakushuu snaps.

Makoto’s anxiously knitting at his hands. His gaze has drifted off Gakushuu.

“Listen. I’m not mad at you-” Gakushuu says.

“I know,” he replies. “You don’t believe me, though, do you?”

“No. I don’t,” Gakushuu admits. That came out a bit harsher than he’d intended, but- “You need to look at this from my perspective. You can’t just jump to a conclusion like that. Especially at someone else’s behest-”

“It’s not at someone else’s behest-” Makoto refutes.

“Are you  _ sure?” _ Gakushuu asks. “Did Nagisa ever whisper anything in your ear? Subliminally suggest this to you?”

“N-No!” Makoto responds, louder this time. “He would never. You should trust him more than that…” 

And Gakushuu  _ knows  _ that. He knows it more than anything. Nagisa loves him. Nagisa has been by his side for almost thirteen years now. And he’s  _ never  _ faltered. But he just can’t forget how it felt: His dad whispering in the back of his mind. That’s why he can never let it happen again. He  _ can’t  _ let another kid feel that way, no matter how low the chance is.

It’s not that he doesn’t know that he’s coming across as an asshole. He’s perfectly self-aware. And he knows that he’d really hurt Nagisa. But it stings. Why does no-one else seem to care about this possibility? Nagisa of all people should know how terrible it is to tell a child “this is who you’re supposed to be.”

He only realizes he’d fallen silent when Makoto nudges his side.

“...I know,” he admits. “It’s just…” He tries his best to articulate his words. “I don’t like the way this happened.”

Makoto looks to the side. “I’m sorry you’re fighting because of me.”

“N-No!” Gakushuu quickly refutes. “This isn’t your fault. We’re not fighting because of you. We’re just worried about you.”

“Aren’t those practically the same thing?” Makoto says with a shrug. “...You four don’t need to worry about me, okay? I can look out for myself.” And he sounds so sure of his words. But Gakushuu can’t believe it for a minute.

At his age, Gakushuu thought he’d had the whole world figured out. That he could fend for himself. But deep down, more than anything, he’d just wanted someone to tell him that none of what was happening to him was his fault.

“Asano-san...That stuff you described earlier…” Makoto says. “Did… Did your dad do all that to you?”

Gakushuu lets out a “tch.” 

 “...Yeah. Something like that,” he finally says.

Makoto frowns deeply. “...Oh,” he says. He hesitates, before placing a firm hand on Gakushuu’s shoulder. “...I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

Gakushuu reels back. “Excuse me?”

“Even if you don’t believe me: I’m sorry. Because I don’t need you to believe me. I believe me. And I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I never realized how bad things were. You seemed very confident…”

Mmm-hm. No-one noticed.  _ Alllll _ the attention had been on the troubled E-Class. No-one had paid any mind to what exactly the kids at the main campus had been going through. “You can’t struggle. You’re perfect. Work harder. Work harder. Work until you snap.” No-one asked why they’d lash out like that. And when the story of Kunugigaoka came out, they’d just been the bullies.

No-one had noticed that Koyama had stopped taking care of himself for months on end in favor of his studies. No-one had noticed that Seo slept four hours a day at best. And no-one had noticed that Gakushuu’s father brainwashed, beat, and berated him behind closed doors.

...Not even the ever-perfect Korosensei.

He knows it’s an unfair resentment. It’s true: Hindsight is 20/20, and they’d been plenty cruel, too. There’s things he’d done that Gakushuu regrets every day. He’d been the bad guy. And no-one watched out for the narcissistic asshole.

...Well, except Nagisa.

Their friendship is a big part of what got him through High School. Nagisa had offhand texted him a thanks for the whole ‘paparazzi incident,’ and against all odds, they’d hit it off. Nagisa had a benign aura to him. He’d never once needed to be competition. Unequivocally, despite their differences, he and Nagisa had been equals from the start. And that was new. He hadn’t been a ‘threat.’ That comforted Gakushuu.

But it was more than that. Although he’d seen Karma more often, and even fallen for him first, Nagisa had seen something in him that no-one had before. An intuitive perception born from his own mother, that dared him to ask Gakushuu the one thing no-one had before:

_ “You’re hurting too, aren’t you?” _

And from the moment that came to light, Nagisa had been there for him. They’d protected each other through each low point, and been there to bandage each others’ wounds. Gakushuu had been there to help Nagisa pack his boxes when he finally moved out of his mother’s home, and Nagisa had been the one to place a hand on Gakushuu’s shoulder all those years later and beg him to cut his father off.

...Nagisa saw him. It would have been impossible not to fall in love with him.

“Yeah. Seemed,” he finally says. “That’s the keyword. But don’t worry about it. I’m getting better every day.”

And in part, that’s all thanks to Nagisa.

Makoto nods. “I mean, I guess- But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have stepped in.” He pauses. “I just… Trusted your dad, you know?” He steeples his fingers. There’s this strangely authentic guilt dripping from his voice. “...Like, I- I noticed the bruise… But he promised he was going to get better-”

Gakushuu freezes.

_ He shouldn’t know about that- _

It’s true, Gakuho hit Gakushuu a number of times, including during Korosensei’s ‘reign.’ But it had remained more of an open secret than anything. And those days are long past. There’s no way for Makoto to know that -

_ Unless…  _

_ Nagisa told hi- _

_ No. No, no, no,  _ **_no, NO_ ** **.** Gakushuu knows one thing for certain, and it’s that Nagisa wouldn’t share that. No matter how bad his delusions were, no matter  _ how _ high his hopes got, he would  _ never  _ share that with a stranger. They’d weathered the storm together. Nagisa knows exactly what it felt like. The one thing Gakushuu  _ cannot believe,  _ no matter how bad, is that Nagisa would share the story of his abuse.

...Makoto has to know another way. And that only leaves one option.

“Well, sometimes people lie,” Gakushuu says. “Me and my dad never fixed things. I’m sorry to disappoint.”

Makoto leans in to hug him. Wraps his arms around Gakushuu’s side, and squeezes tight. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fix things for you.”

And held tight, he thinks he finally gets what Nagisa meant about the energy this boy exudes. “...It’s fine. I survived, didn’t I? Believe it or not, I didn’t need you.” That came off harsher than he’d intended as well. “I had… Plenty of other people by my side.”

And his husbands’ faces are clear in his mind.

“...You really are who you say you are, aren’t you?” Gakushuu asks. “...You haven’t been lying.”

Because he knows Nagisa is better than that. If Nagisa’s above sharing the story of his abuse, then he’s above perpetrating it. Gakushuu should have given him more credit.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say this whole time!” Makoto replies. “I can’t believe you’re finally coming around!”

Gakushuu shrugs. “...Eh. I reflected on some things. And that left no other possibility.”

Makoto smirks. “About time you used that big brain of yours,” he chides, tapping his forehead.

“I suppose so...” Gakushuu admits.

It seems he has some apologies to make. To Nagisa and Kayano both. Because he’s made his decision. He’d rather believe in an impossibility - Believe that this world is truly strange than he would believe Nagisa would ever willingly hurt him. He just can’t fathom it. Not after they’ve had each other’s backs for so long.

...He’d rather believe that the universe itself is crazy than dare believe his husband is.

He’ll put his faith in the whole ‘Korosensei’ thesis for now. As unfair as it would be for him to tell Makoto who he’s supposed to be, it’s equally as unfair of him to tell Makoto who he’s  _ not.  _ That’s Makoto’s decision to make. All Gakushuu can do is try his best to help.

He doesn’t know how. But he will. If this is so important to Nagisa… If this is so important to the others… It’s the least he can do.

Makoto’s still bragging about winning over his belief when Gakushuu motions towards the door. 

“Okay, okay. It’s time you get on your way,” he says. “I’m not sure you remember, but I have a book I’m supposed to be finishing up.”

At least, that’s what he says. In reality, he needs to figure out what the hell he’s going to say to Karma, Kayano and Nagisa. He can’t exactly do that with a twelve-year-old babbling in his ear. And regardless of the fact that he tries to have as much patience as possible about Nagisa’s students (After all, he knows just how much it sucks to be treated like garbage as a kid,) there’s only so much he can take.

“Oh! Of course!” Makoto says, springing to his feet. “Thank you for hearing me out, Asano-kun!”

Gakushuu’s lip twitches. Asano-kun, huh...? He’s not exactly how keen he is on a literal child referring to him as -kun, but he’ll take it any day over Gakushuu-no-honorific-at-all. 

Plus, if he’d wanted to express any distaste about the way Makoto had referred to him, it’s too late now. Makoto’s out of the door in an instant. He bolts like a streak of lightning, nearly tripping on the carpet as he shoots out of the room.

Gakushuu snorts. That had certainly been… An experience. He’s not sure what he’d expected Makoto to be like, but that wasn’t it.

_ Rash. Thoughtful. Dumb as hell. _

...He’s not sure what he’d expected the elusive Korosensei to be like, either.

He hears something skid, and then the scuttle of wild footsteps as Makoto reels back around. He peeks his head into the doorway.

“Oh! One more thing! Congrats about your relationship! I really didn’t expect it, but… You seem a lot happier!” 

Gakushuu’s lips purse, but before he can grace Makoto with a response, he’s already on his way again like a goddamn freight train. 

“I think you make a good couple!” he shouts down the hall, and then he’s gone for good.

_ Forgetful, too. _ Gakushuu notes. Makoto Himura has a one-track-mind, if nothing else.

He’s not entirely incorrect, though. If he may say so himself, he thinks his spouses and he make a pretty good goddamn couple. Even if… Sometimes they do stumble along the way.

But these stumbles feel different. They’re rare, and they’re intense, and they’re forgivable. They work through things. They always have. And most importantly: Yeah, when they’re not stumbling, they do make him happy.

...He’d never gotten that with his old family.

He leans back against the bed, licks his thumb, and turns the page of his book. Okay… He’ll finish this up, think over what he needs to say to his spouses, and have a concrete apology ready by the time Makoto leaves the house.

He hears Makoto chattering excitedly with the others, even from halfway across the house. He yelps and he laughs and he shouts.

He’ll figure out what to do with him as well.

If it’s what he truly wishes to believe, then indeed he can be Korosensei. But Gakushuu will do him one better. He’ll watch out for Makoto. And make sure Korosensei’s legacy never becomes too much to bear.

...He’ll be there for Korosensei where Korosensei wasn’t there for him.

 

* * *

Karma and Kayano are tag-teaming to make dinner when Gakushuu peeks his head into the kitchen. Nagisa’s the first one to notice, thoroughly unoccupied with much more than his phone, seeing as how he’d served his dinner duty last night.

Makoto left about an hour ago. He’d wanted to stay longer, but had quickly become concerned about his father when he realized the time. Nagisa had offered to let him stay for dinner, but he’d shook his head and said he’d take him up on the offer next time. 

He hadn’t exactly shared how the conversation with Gakushuu had gone outside of “Good.” Something about him being “Grumpy but funny?” And knowing both Gakushuu and Makoto, that could mean just about anything.

Gakushuu’s hands are in his pockets. He doesn’t exactly seem to be ashamed. It’s not like he’s walking into the room with his tail between his legs. But he does have a genuine frown on his face. He may not be the type to project his self-defeat openly, but with time he has become someone willing to admit he’s wrong.

_...Not that he had been completely wrong. _ Nagisa still knows he’d been slightly unfair to Makoto, but he’s not willing to step down on this now. He’s spent his entire life learning to advocate for himself. He knows what he believes, and this is it.

 

* * *

Karma catches Gakushuu out of the corner of his eye. He’s got this stern look on his face. He nearly drops a comment along the lines of ‘look who’s finally out of his lair,’ but quickly decides against it.

“Hey,” he says, keeping his eyes on dinner.

“Hey,” Gakushuu returns.

“Feeling any better?” Nagisa says.

“Somewhat,” Gakushuu replies.

Kayano’s quiet. Although it’d be easy to mistake some of her cold shoulder for anger, Karma has a feeling it’s mostly guilt. She’d ripped into Gakushuu yesterday. Even he knows she’d gone too far, and he loves a good catfight.

“I heard you talked to Makoto?” Nagisa asks.

“Indeed,” Gakushuu replies. “He’s… A peculiar kid.” He’s walking Nagisa’s way. 

“That’s putting it lightly,” Nagisa says with a chuckle. “I hope he didn’t give you too much of a hassle.”

“Of course not,” Gakushuu replies pulling out a chair and sliding in next to Nagisa. “He certainly gave me some things to think about.”

Karma has to hold back a satisfied smirk. That ever-so-slightly defeatist tone is in Gakushuu’s voice. This is bound to play out interestingly.

“Like?” he asks, still never looking at Gakushuu as he continues to prepare to the meal.

“A lot,” Gakushuu says. “Let’s talk, okay?”

_ Bingo. _

* * *

These sorts of conversations are always Gakushuu’s least favorite.

It’s not that he thinks he’s irrefutable, but admittedly it still sucks to swallow his ego. Especially when ‘his ego’ comes from such a place of vulnerability. 

There’s no use beating around the bush, however.

He gulps. “Listen. I believe you, okay?” he says. “At least, I think so.”

He still thinks it’s a ridiculous notion, but he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s wracked his brain over it for the past few hours now, and no other possibility had come to light.

Nagisa’s mouth falls ever so agape. He’s as surprised by this as Gakushuu is, evidently. 

“W… What?” he murmurs “What did he say?”

Gakushuu sighs and drums his fingers on the table. “Some… Things I knew you wouldn’t share with him,” he admits. “Things that I would even define as… Slightly harmful.” He pauses. “I… Don’t know what other way he could have come to collect that information unless you were telling the truth.”

Well. There is one other option. That Nagisa himself had shared that. But even with hours of reflecting on it: That had continued to come up as a definitive ‘no.’ Nagisa has only ever had his best interests in mind. And genuinely: Unlike certain people that have been in Gakushuu’s life.

Yes. This is the only way. So he’ll swallow his ego if he must. He’ll apologize. Because Nagisa’s feelings matter too.

* * *

Kayano’s not sure Gakushuu himself even notices the slight quiver in his voice.

Gakushuu is a very strong-willed man. He keeps very few secrets. He has a tenancy to brag and oftentimes sees himself in an extremely narcissistic light. He has an incredible amount of pride and belief in himself, barring the very few topics he refuses to breach.

So in between that and the restless tone in his voice, it’s not too hard to piece together what exactly Gakushuu is talking about.

Either Makoto had shared his inexplicable fear of the Kahoot Owl with him, or he’d dropped details about Gakushuu’s abusive father.

 P...Probably the latter, on second thought. 

A certain air takes over the room whenever Gakuho Asano is brought up, and Kayano recognizes that icy feeling as clear as day.

_ Yikes. _

Nagisa must have put the pieces together, too, because there’s an insanely distressed look on his face.

Kayano bites her lip and looks his way.

* * *

“J-Jeez, Gakushuu… I’m sorry.”

Nagisa wouldn’t have let Makoto into his room if he’d realized he was going to start gossiping about stuff like that. He knows Gakushuu hates it when that topic is breached. It’s half of why Gakushuu had gotten so upset at him over the Makoto-Korosensei thing in the first place.

“It’s fine,” Gakushuu reassures. “...It’s clear he just didn’t know any better. We… Cleared that one up.”

Nagisa gives a tiny nod.

“And frankly, it should be me apologizing to you,” Gakushuu admits, averting his gaze. “...As… Upsetting as the things Makoto shared with me were, they did solidify your evidence,” he specifies. “I was… Unfairly harsh on you.”

_ ‘Yeah. You totally were.’ _

But… Nagisa gets where he was coming from.

“No, no. You were just worried about him.” He says, placing a hand on Gakushuu’s shoulder. 

“Exactly! It felt like I was the only one! You _ get _ why this was upsetting to me, right?”

“Of course,” Nagisa replies. 

“But leaping down his ass wasn’t exactly going to fix anything, either,” Karma quips from across the room.

Gakushuu scowls deeply, but gives a shrug. “I know,” he replies. “I’m sorry. I got far more intense than I’d intended to with the things I said. I should have known you wouldn’t have manipulated Makoto.”

Of course not! Nagisa’s not mad, though. Maybe he had been a little at the time, but he knows it’s just a remnant of how Gakushuu was raised.

He gets it. The way he’d flinched as Gakushuu’s shout is the same. Sometimes they’re still recovering from the paranoia their homes gave them.

...But the good news is Gakushuu’s willing to admit he was wrong and apologize. And Nagisa’s willing to realize Gakushuu would never lay a hand on him. That’s more than their parents ever would have done.

As hard as it is sometimes, they make a pretty good team.

“It’s fine, Gakushuu.” He pauses. Ah. He’s forgetting something important, too. “I forgive you.”

* * *

Ah… If Kayano won’t speak up herself, Karma supposes he’ll need to step in.

“Your turn,” he says, nudging her with his elbow as he chops their food

“Of course,” she says. She still has this weird defensiveness to her posture, but she does turn Gakushuu’s way.

“So… I kind of went off on you.”

“You did,” Gakushuu says. 

Kayano sighs. “...Listen. I went  _ way _ too far. I don’t know what came over me,” she admits. She’s not looking towards the counter, so Karma makes sure to diligently watch the stove in her steed, as opposed to looking towards Gakushuu’s inevitable wounded face.

He hates seeing him look that way.

“I guess I’m just stressed too. This has… Reopened a lot of old wounds for me,” Kayano continues.

And that’s open secret in the room number 2. She doesn’t say it’s Aguri who’s stressing her out, but it’s pretty easy to piece together.

He decides to avoid looking her way too. 

* * *

Admittedly, Gakushuu’s only a little eased by hearing Kayano apologize.

She’s still explaining her side. “...But it wasn’t fair for me to snap at you like that. I’m still mad you yelled at Nagisa like that, but I shouldn’t have made it personal.”

Which, fair enough… But...

“You understand when you say things like that, that makes me feel like that’s how you think about me on a daily basis, right?”

The whole ‘violent narcissist’ thing is still a bit of a sore spot. He  _ knows _ he’d been horrible to people when he was younger. But he tries to do better every day. He just wants to be a ‘good person,’ whatever that is. It feels like the only thing he can do to shake his dad’s violent legacy.

“Of- Of course not!” Kayano sputters. “I don’t really think you’re a self-centered asshole.” She pauses in this way Gakushuu doesn’t particularly like, but he tries to shove his unease to the side. “You’re… A very thoughtful person, Gakushuu. I just hated that you thought you could talk to Nagisa that way.”

“I know…” Gakshuu admits. “You just made things  _ very _ personal.”

“I know,” Kayano agrees. “And I’m sorry.”

“Admittedly I was getting pretty peeved at the way you were talking to Nagisa, too,” Karma admits over his shoulder. “I was gonna stay out of this, but if we’re having a heart to heart I am sorta glad Kayano snapped before me, because I was this close to knocking some sense into you.”

An empty threat considering Gakushuu knows Karma would never lay a finger on him, but appreciated nonetheless.

“Guys, guys!” Nagisa pipes up. “You don’t need to protect me. I’m perfectly capable of standing up for myself.”

“Considering your ‘standing up for yourself’ is anything from curling up in a ball to threatening to skin someone alive, forgive me for taking that with a grain of salt,” Karma snarks.

Nagisa sheepishly covers his face. “Touche…”

That said, the atmosphere in the room seems to have lightened significantly. And Gakushuu feels he’s made his case. 

“Now that it seems we've gotten all that sorted out, that only leaves one thing left to discuss: Makoto” 

* * *

Ah yes, the infamous, Kayano notes.

“First and foremost, on the topic, I must extend a genuine apology for one last thing:” Gakushuu admits. “You were right about that much, Kayano. You knew the man and I did not. Although I wish you had taken my concerns more seriously-”

Nagisa interrupts him. “And we will,” he reassures. “In the future.”

Gakushuu nods before continuing. “...I wasn’t in any position to make an assumption about him. Having met neither Makoto nor Korosensei, I was out of my area of expertise. So I apologize if I came across as presumptuous, much less stepping on the toes of something I know was so important to you.”

_ “Is _ important to us,” Nagisa clarifies. “Makoto _ is _ important to us.”

Kayano nods along. The meeting earlier had only been a few hours long. In the full scope of things it had been very brief. But she’d enjoyed getting to ‘know’ Makoto. He reminds her of Korosensei in the best ways, and Nagisa’s right to specify he’s as important as ever.

“Of course,” Gakushuu agrees. “And with him being so important to… The lot of us…” He pauses. The tone in his voice sincerely makes Kayano doubt he has much fondness for Makoto himself, but considering Gakushuu isn’t particularly fond of children, that much is fair. “What do we intend to do from here? For him?”

“Good question,” Kayano says.

“This… Korosensei,” Gakushuu continues. “He… Saw and engaged in some rather messed up events, did he not?”

“Just a little bit of homicide,” Karma jokes. “Yeah. The dude was the most infamous killer on the planet. He’s seen all sorts of fucked shit.”

Gakushuu rolls his eyes at the crude wording. “Indeed. Which is why I must step in once more, just in case. This may be perceived poorly, and I apologize in advance: But I must ask: Do you seriously intend to inform him of these matters?”

“Of- Of course not!” Nagisa is quick to clarify.

“We actually discussed this earlier. We’ve made an executive decision to… Avoid bringing those things up.”

“Only Korosensei’s happy memories need to matter,” Nagisa admits with a frown.

Well, most of Korosensei’s happy memories.

Kayano bites her lip and reminds herself ‘it’s for the greater good.’ But it’s hard not to imagine Aguri rolling over in her grave.

Nagisa must spot the look on her face. “At least, for now,” he says. “If he wants to know the nitty gritty stuff when he’s older, then I think he deserves to. Those are his memories, after all. But no, I don’t intend to let him in on anything that I think would harm him.”

“I still wouldn’t put that down as a certainty, though-” Kayano clarifies. “Only if he asks. Otherwise… I think it’s best we just let him live.”

Aguri’d want him to be happy, too, after all.

* * *

Nagisa listens attentively to Gakushuu voicing his concerns.

“Very well,” Gaksuhuu says. “I agree that’s for the best. If we even remain in contact with this boy as he gets older.”

“We will,” Nagisa says. “I keep in contact with all my students. Korosensei or not, he’ll be no different.”

It’s true. Just this morning he’d received a text from a Paradise student asking for advice about college. He tries to be there for his kids no matter what, and he doesn’t want that to fade once they graduate. He’ll always be their teacher, no matter how much they grow.

...And Korosensei will always be his.

Gakushuu nods. “But furthermore: My final worry is the potential pressure you’re putting on this Makoto’s shoulders. What happens when he fears he either cannot live up to the gargantuan legacy of Korosensei, or feels he must  _ become _ Korosensei? While imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I very much figure you don’t want him to be changing anything about himself in this case.”

Despite voicing worry that his takes may be perceived as controversial, Gakushuu’s doing a better job than anyone at putting Nagisa’s thoughts into words.

“Would you believe me if I told you that’s actually part of the reason I hesitated to bring this up for so long?” he asks. “I… One hundred percent get where you’re coming from, Gakushuu. I’m scared of putting him under that sort of pressure, too. So… I won’t let that happen.” He pauses.  _ “We  _ won’t let that happen. All I want is for Makoto to live the best life possible. Telling him how he’s supposed to act to be would only be detrimental to that. We won’t let him feel that way.”

...Not when it’s a feeling they know all too well.

“Thank you,” Gakushuu says. “That’s all I ask.”

“Plus? If I may make a confession?” Karma asks. “I think I like the new Korosensei better,” he stage-whispers.

Kayano snorts. “You’re only saying that because he’s willing to cuss in front of you.”

“What can I say? He’s totally unhinged! It’s hilarious.” 

Nagisa’s not exactly sure ‘hilarious’ is how he’d word ‘willing to do things like shank Karma,’ but he snorts along anyways.

Karma slides dinner onto the table. “Well, I’m glad you all had your heart to heart. In the meantime, I actually finished making us dinner.”

Kayano sheepishly blushes, realizing she’d gotten distracted entirely. She mumbles a quick apology, before finally taking a seat.

“What do you all want to drink tonight? Since it seems I need to do everything around here.”

“Water, please,” Nagisa says. It’s been a long day. Anything else and he thinks he’ll combust.

“I think I’ll second that,” Kayano says.

“Wine, please,” Gakushuu says.

“Of course,” Karma says, grabbing a gin for himself. He pops it open with a bottle opener, before pouring the rest of their drinks and sliding them their way. “Bon appetit.” 

“Thanks, Karma,” Nagisa says as Karma takes a seat next to him.

“Watch’ya think?”

“It’s okay,” Gakushuu snarks, taking a bite.

“It’s okay!?” Karma repeats “And after everything I’ve done!”

“Sorry, Karma. Serving your basic duty as the housewife of this family isn’t worth any extra praise,” Kayano tacks on. Gakushuu smirks smugly in response. Nagisa’s glad to see they’re back on good terms. Good terms being ‘tag-teaming to roast Karma,’ of course.

Nagisa chuckles and takes a bite of his dinner. But he can’t stay silent for long.

“Hey. Gakushuu? Uh… Thanks for… Thinking about all that. I’m really excited about Makoto, but you’re right. Sometimes I need a reminder that I still need to think things through. So… Thank you for looking out for him. And for bringing up your worries. I feel like maybe earlier I made it seem like your feelings didn’t matter, and I never want that to happen. I don’t want to fight about this again. So, tell me how you feel, okay?”

Gakushuu averts his gaze, staring intently at his dinner plate to avoid showing Nagisa his quivering lip. “Of course,” he says.

“You too, Karma, Kayano,” he says. “...We gotta work together on this. I need you guys more than ever.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Kayano says.

“You’re sappy tonight,” Karma points out.

“Kinda had a reunion with my dead teacher then a heart to heart with my spouses in the span of the past four hours. Forgive me for being a bit sappy.”

Karma smiles. “Are you kidding me? I love it.” He takes a sip of his drink. “You’ve got a point. We gotta look out for him. And we’ve gotta look out for each other. So let’s toast on it: To Makoto, and to us.”

And as silly as he feels clinking his glass of water against gin and wine, Nagisa thinks he likes the sound of that.

_ To Makoto, and to us. _

* * *

The next day Makoto invites himself into Matsuraiken like he owns the place.

_ “Yo! Muramatsu!”  _

You know, how you talk to a guy you’ve never met!

When Makoto had first let Kiyoshi and Fumiko in on the whole “Nagisa gave me a free fast pass to this ramen place” thing, Kiyoshi had been a tad surprised. But he’d been happy, too. Because, y’know, getting free ramen is decidedly better than stealing from the local 7-Eleven.

Plus, he’d known well enough that Muramatsu was a good guy. They’re not exactly close, but he’s well aware he’s another kid his parents taught back in the day. He’s been to his place once or twice, and Muramatsu babysat him a few times growing up. They’re acquaintances at best, but he’d been glad Muramatsu was doing this for Makoto. And as such, he’d gladly agreed to come scope out the place with Makoto and Fumiko. Sure, literally anywhere he was invited to by Makoto was bound to be weird, but what was the worst that could happen?

Makoto doing literally everything his social anxiety constantly tells him not to do, apparently!?

The good news is he’s not alone, and all social conventions haven’t magically vanished from the planet, because Fumiko is shooting Makoto an equally as baffled look. 

Before she can chastise him, however, a man peeks out from behind the kitchen door. It’s been a few years since Kiyoshi’s seen him last, but he’d recognize the delightfully bland and slightly exhausted Muramatsu anywhere.

“Hey. You must be the Makoto I’ve heard so much about,” he says. 

Makoto nods eagerly in response. He’s almost wiggling, excitedly stepping from foot to foot.

“And hey! Is that Kiyoshi back there?” 

Kiyoshi only just now realizes he’s hidden behind Fumiko. He awkwardly steps out away from her.

“Mmmmmmyep-” he says, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he’s horrified to be seen with Makoto in public.

“Long time no see. I’d heard you were in Nagisa’s class this year, but I didn’t expect to see you here. You friends with him?” he asks, pointing his thumb at Makoto.

“Uh! Yeah! Kinda!” Kiyoshi sputters. “We… Uh… Workongroupprojectstogether.”

“Neat, neat,” Muramatsu says, evidently not giving nearly as much of a shit about this as Kiyoshi is. “And you?” he says, looking Fumiko’s way. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here before.”

“That’s because I don’t typically attend low-quality establishments,” she matter-of-factly states. “I’m just here for my friend.” She points at Makoto, before holding out a hand. “Hisakawa. Fumiko Hisakawa.”

Muramatsu leans over the counter and awkwardly takes her hand, trying his best to return politeness to the girl who just addressed his life’s work as hot shit.

Kiyoshi shoots him an apologetic look, hoping it’s enough to make up for both of his friends. He sincerely doubts it, but he thinks he’ll combust if he lets Muramatsu think he’s one of them.

“But I suppose none of that really matters, huh?” Muramatsu says, pulling his hand away. “You’re here for food, right? Usually I’d make your friends pay, but just this once it can be on the house. Kiyoshi’s an old friend, and it seems Miss Hisakawa needs some persuasion on the quality of my work. So watch’ya thinkin?”

Makoto quickly scans the menu overhead. “I’ll take Tonkotsu!”

“Good choice, good choice,” Muramatsu comments, turning to Kiyoshi. “And you?”

“Er- Shio please.”

Muramatsu nods. He doesn’t even need to ask Fumiko.

“Shoyu,” she says.

“Alright. I’ll be on that in a jiffy! In the meantime, you can sit down over there,” he says, motioning to a booth towards the corner of the restaurant. “I’ll bring it your way, so feel free to just get comfortable.”

Makoto nods and skips over to the booth. He shouts, “Try not to make it too bland!” over his shoulder, before sliding into his seat. Fumiko follows, letting out a deep sigh.

“S-Sorry,” Kiyoshi quickly apologizes. “...They… Don’t watch what they say.”

Muramatsu shrugs. “Eh. Don’t worry about it. More than anything I’m just surprised Nagisa told him about the ‘bland’ thing. That’s a new one. I’ve heard it a hundred times before, though. So it ain’t gonna get to me now. Something tells me he’ll be pleasantly surprised by the quality of my ramen, anyways.” And with that, he turns and returns to the kitchen.

Kiyoshi slides in next to Fumiko, looking across the table at Makoto.

“Hey, real question? What the fuck?” 

Makoto tilts his head. “What?”

“You can’t just talk to someone that way.  _ Do you even know that guy?” _

Makoto pauses, thinking that one over. Finally, he leans towards Kiyoshi with an excited grin. “No. Yes. Kinda!”

Kiyoshi cocks an eyebrow.

“There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to tell you guys!” Makoto says, his voice shifting into a stage whisper. “Can I share a secret?”

Kiyoshi frowns. “...Well… Last time you said that you showed us a malformed cat, so you’re either gonna pull another fucked up animal out of your ass, or try and sell us cocaine.” Needless to say, whatever Makoto’s about to share will be interesting, at the very least. “I don’t see why not?” Plus, he highly doubts Makoto will take no for an answer.

“E-Eh!?” Fumiko butts in.

“Huh?” Makoto asks.

“Y-Y-You’re not really selling us drugs, right!?” she asks, genuine horror in her voice.

“No,” Kiyoshi reassures. “He’s not selling us cocaine. I was just making a joke.”

Fumiko seems to have completely missed that, because only now do her tense shoulders lower. “...Oh.”

“No, no,” Makoto says. “This is way cooler than drugs. This is life changing. Earth shattering. Insanely cool. I’ve been meaning to bring it up to you guys forever now, and I think now’s the time. You guys wanna know my secret?”

Kiyoshi nods. And Makoto leans in even further. He grins and whispers into Kiyoshi’s ear.

_ “I’m Korosensei.” _

There’s no way Kiyoshi heard him right. What did he just say...?

_ “Excuse me?”  _ Fumiko asks, a baffled curiosity to her voice.

“I’m Korosensei,” Makoto firmly repeats. 

“T… The Korosensei?” Kiyoshi asks, his mouth dry. The claim is utter horseshit, but the way Makoto says it is filled with conviction.

“Duh. How many Korosenseis do you know?”

“B-But what does that even  _ mean?”  _ he replies. “Of course you’re not! I mean, look at you-” he says, motioning to Makoto. There’s not a tentacle or tie to be seen. Plus, you know, the more significant factor in this equation: _ Korosensei’s been dead for fifteen years! _

Makoto glances at his hand, but quickly shakes his head. “Well, not in _ that _ way!” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Then in what way?” Kiyoshi quickly retorts. 

“The reincarnation. I’m the reincarnation of Korosensei.”

Kiyoshi sputters. “T-That doesn’t-”

“Just hear me out,” Makoto interrupts. “I’ve known there was something off about me my whole life. I mean… I never felt like I belonged.”

And neither has Kiyoshi! But that doesn’t mean he’s suddenly the second coming of an octopus! It means he’s an  _ outcast.  _

“I’ve always had these strange dreams. Of… Things I shouldn’t know about. Faces I couldn’t recognize. The same place over and over and over again. I could never place my finger on it, but I _ knew  _ it was home.”

“Or it was just a weird dream,” Kiyoshi points out.

“Kiyoshi has a point,” Fumiko admits. “I… Dream about weird things all the time. I'm not sure that means what you think it means.”

“Let me finish!” Makoto says. “I didn’t recognize any of it at least until I got to Constellate. But then I knew what I was seeing. It was the place from my dreams! Right down to the shitty overhead lighting and the fresh smell of the mountainside. I was coming home. And then I met Nagisa. Guys…-” Makoto takes a deep breath. “Nagisa. Karma. All of them. I remember them when they were little.”

“You can’t prove that-” Kiyoshi says.

“Yes I can. I know things I shouldn’t know. Nagisa’s first assassination attempt: Some older boys bullied him into strapping a grenade to his chest. He hugged me and then they set it off. He nearly got seriously hurt.”

“...You could have looked that up,” Kiyoshi refutes.

“No, I couldn’t have. Look around. There’s  _ nothing _ on Kunugigaoka online. At least, not on the class of 2015. What the government didn’t scrub, the class didn’t share.”

“It’s true,” Fumiko admits. “I’ve done my own research on the topic. It was a bit of a fascination of mine for a while. What went down that year, I mean. Even in textbooks there’s _ very  _ little information, especially personal anecdotes. It’s all been covered up.” 

“He made it up, then,” Kiyoshi offers. 

“Nope. No I didn’t,” Makoto says. “Just ask Nagisa himself.”

“What?”

“Ask him what happened! He’ll tell you exactly what I just said. He’ll back up all of this. Because Nagisa believes me.”

Kiyoshi raises an eyebrow. “No way,” he says.

“Yes way,” Makoto replies. “Invited me over to his house and everything. I had a wonderful reunion with Karma and Kayano and everything. Ask him. He’ll second all of this,” Makoto pauses. “I think. Now that I think about it, he  _ sorta  _ told me not to share this with anyone, but you guys are different. You’re my  _ friends,  _ not the E-Class. Not that they aren’t my friends! But, like, I guess it’s easier to explain to you!”

_ Is it?  _ Kiyoshi’s head is spinning.

“I-I’m just not sure how I can-” Kiyoshi drifts off. What is he even supposed to say? ‘Believe this?’ Pretend he does? Process this at all! That’s his parents' dead coworker Makoto is talking about.

“I know, I know,” Makoto replies. “But please, just trust me on this. Do you ever know something so deeply in your gut that it  _ has _ to be true?” He’s frowning now. “This… This is important to me. And it’s important to Nagisa, too.”

...

“We believe you,” Fumiko says, and Kiyoshi chokes on his spit.

_ ‘We do!?’ _

She shoots him a look that says ‘just work with me.’ He gulps and hesitantly nods his head.

Makoto pumps his fist and cheers under his breath. But before he can boast any more, their ramen is ready. Muramatsu slides it onto the table with a hospitable grin.

“Enjoy!” he says.

Makoto nods eagerly, and it’s only now Kiyoshi notices the look in his eyes. He’s genuinely staring at their waiter as if he’s an old friend. He’s not stringing them along. He’s genuinely out of his mind.

Kiyoshi bolts to his feet.

“Fumiko? Can we talk for a second?”

“Not right now-” she says, but he’s already grabbing her hand.

“Please? I think we  _ really _ need to talk. Makoto, you watch the ramen in the meantime.” The delicious scent is wafting through the air, but Kiyoshi can’t even focus on it in the light of these insane developments.

Fumiko does try to pull away, but relents. “Fine,” she says. “We’ll be right back, Makoto.”

Makoto watches Kiyoshi drag her outside with wounded eyes.

The moment the door is shut, he’s staring her down “Y-You don’t actually believe him, do you!?”

Fumiko’s lip curls. She takes her hand from Kiyoshi and wipes herself off. “Of course not,” she answers. “But I’m not gonna refute him. And you shouldn’t either.”

Kiyoshi’s quiet. Once she’s satisfied with wiping off his germs or whatever, she looks his way. There’s a deadly seriousness in her eyes.

“Listen. I’m not sure if you’ve been paying attention,” she says. “But… Makoto’s had a hard life,” she admits. “He’s seen a lot. I think he needs this.”

“H-huh?” Kiyoshi asks.

“Listen. It’s not really my place to disclos-”

“No. I mean-- Why would he need  _ this?” _

“He’s used to being helpless, Kiyoshi. If he wants to believe he’s a superpowered martyr capable of accomplishing inhuman feats and helping everyone around him, then so be it. Please. Just let him have this.”

Kiyoshi slowly blinks. He supposes she has a point, but this whole thing is still leaving a weird taste in his mouth. “But what about what he said about Nagisa? There’s no way he-”

“That doesn’t matter,” Fumiko interrupts. “Now let’s get back in there before he thinks we’re gossiping about him.” She pauses. And when Kiyoshi stands, shellshocked, it’s her turn to tug on his hand. “He’s a lot more perceptive than you’d first give him credit for. I have no doubt he knows exactly what you’re thinking. So you’re gonna go in there and you're gonna say ‘Okay, I believe you,’ and  _ mean it.” _

“B-But I don’t!”

“Then you’d best well pretend. If you want to worry about something, then worry about preserving this for him. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Kiyoshi opens his mouth to disagree, but sighs and nods. It’s just not worth the effort. And quite frankly, he’s afraid of what Fumiko will do to him if he disagrees any further. “Of... Of course,” he says.

“Good,” Fumiko replies, finally releasing her iron grip on his wrist. “Thank you, Kiyoshi. I… Think this will mean a lot to him.”

Kiyoshi gives an uneasy nod. “I guess…”

“Plus, even if it’s not true, it’s sort of cool to think about, isn’t it?” Fumiko asks. “I don’t see any problem with playing pretend.”

That’s easy for her to say as someone who had the luxury of the Korosensei mystery being a simple childhood interest. But that’s his parents’ dead coworker Makoto is talking about! 

He just keeps nodding, ignoring the pit in his stomach.

Fumiko leads him back into Matsuraiken. Makoto notices them right away. He waves them over and shouts an enthusiastic, “Hey!” through a mouthful of ramen.

“Hey,” Kiyoshi says, sliding into his seat. Fumiko quietly nudges him as she sits down. Kiyoshi gulps, takes a bite of his ramen, and forces it out. “Me and Fumiko had a talk. I - Uh - Believe you.” He says.

Makoto grins. “I knew you’d come around!” he says, turning Fumiko’s way. “Thank you, Fumiko!” 

Fumiko gives him a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“I have so much to tell you guys!” Makoto rambles. “You have no idea how much went down back then! Did you know Karma was a little shit as a kid?”

“Yeah. I actually think I could come to that conclusion myself,” Fumiko snarks with a smirk. 

Kiyoshi stares into his ramen as the topic shifts to something about a younger Nagisa. And with his ears ringing, he can’t help but wonder if this is really okay.

Why had Makoto brought Nagisa up like that? Makoto would never bring up someone he knew would refute his point. But there’s no way in hell Nagisa could be backing this horse. Kiyoshi  _ knows _ how much Korosensei meant to him. He… He couldn’t roll with this simply for Makoto’s sake

_...Could he? _

Fumiko had said not to worry. But Kiyoshi worries. He worries about Makoto, worries about Nagisa, and worries about what this means for him as the one and only son of Irina and Tadaomi Karasuma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10, finally! Sorry about the wait on this one. It's a HEFTY one, clocking in at almost 15k! Admittedly it's a long read, but I felt all of these segments went together thematically, and I wanted to wrap up the initial after-reactions of Makoto's revelation in this chapter so I could start the next arc with Chapter 11. Hope it's not too much, ahaha!
> 
> Before I get into the actual authors notes: I'd like to go on a record and say something. The other day I was browsing the bookmarks and kudos of this fic, and I saw some concerning things. This won't apply to most of my readers, but I feel a strong need to say it anyway, because thinking about it made me violently ill: PLEASE DON'T READ THIS FIC IF YOU SHIP ADULTS WITH MINORS. And ESPECIALLY not if you think it's acceptable to ship Nagisa and Makoto or Nagisa and Korosensei. This is a story, at heart, about abuse and recovery from abuse, and I'm DEEPLY uncomfortable with anyone interpreting it in a way that further solidifies the cycle of abuse. If you ship adults and vulnerable kids this story isn't for you. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Get out.
> 
> With THAT disturbing ass sidenote out of the way (I hope that didn't dampen your enjoyment of the chapter, but I felt it needed to be said for my own sanity), onto the actual author's notes for, y'know, my readers who have morals!
> 
> As expected, Karma and Kayano were thrilled. And Gakushuu was... Gakushuu. But of course I had him come around, too. I hope when it comes to the arguments between the Moonrise Quartet things don't feel wrapped up too quickly or too easily. Because it's not that they're perfect and always know how to fix things. They've just learned how to communicate after years of living together. Which isn't to say they're flawless, but most of their dysfunction comes from internalized issues rather than issues with each other, and I think that shows a bit in this chapter. Some deeper issues as to their inner dysfunction will actually be delved into next chapter, so be prepared!
> 
> Needless to say, I'm not dropping the Aguri plot thread. Kayano's bound to be thinking about, y'know, her dead sister at a time like this. And I, known biggest Aguri stan on the planet, am as well. But as for answers, I have none. Is the world really just that unfair?
> 
> I had a TON of fun writing the reunion and interactions between the RGB trio and Makoto. They had a lot of fun. I love the way they play off of each other, and I can't wait to write more of them in the future. Because they ARE gonna be interacting a lot. You know Makoto's never gonna leave them alone. They're his students, after all! >:0
> 
> I'm also REALLY proud of how the entire segment with Gakushuu and Makoto turned out. If Atlas (Read Atlas. It's canon to this fic) and his inclusion in this fic didn't make it obvious, I have... a lot of feelings about Gakushuu. And a lot of the time I'm sad he couldn't find a safe place like the E-Class students did. In some ways, I think he resents that. But... He's not a bad person. He's trying hard to move on from his own personal burdens every day.
> 
> And of course, finally, the Newtime trio! I had THE MOST FUN with this bit. Tender reunions and heartfelt apologies are great and all, but sometimes you just wanna write dumb kids being kids. I'm glad Kiyoshi at the very least is pressing (x) to doubt on this, because Fumiko's really just letting Makoto go hogwild, huh? (I mean, he IS Korosensei, but THOSE TWO have no way of knowing that)
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were Your Fault from Into The Woods, Maybe by The Submarines, Sicilian Crest by The Mountain Goats, Coming Home by Skylar Grey, Viva La Vida by Coldplay, and Therapy from Tick, Tick... Boom.
> 
> The next chapter should be up on the weekly schedule, so you won't have to wait long! I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to see you then!


	11. Parents Time

With Nagisa’s biggest worry cleared up, life seems to return to some semblance of normality.

No - It returns to something better.

The school days go by swimmingly. They burn through math and science lessons alike. After school, Makoto stays for tutoring, unless he’s made plans with his friends. And after tutoring the two of them will flip through the yearbook. Nagisa will share stories, and Makoto will toss in his own anecdotes. They’ll laugh and reminisce, reflecting on the time they’d tackled the baseball game, or how Korosensei had built the pool out back. And then they’ll talk about how their classmates are doing now.

_ “Terasaka's a politician!? You've gotta be kidding me! Does he work with Karma!?” _

Oftentimes Makoto stops by their house after. Stuffs himself with a much-needed meal, excitedly converses with Karma and Kayano, and even attempts to weasel his way under into the prickly Gakushuu’s heart. It must be working at least a little, because Gakushuu makes sure to ask where he is on the days he doesn’t come over.

When Makoto’s done and dealt with, Nagisa falls into the gentle embrace of his spouses’ arms. They reminisce about the good times, too. Then create new fond memories... Snuggled up to each other playing Pokemon on the couch, or falling asleep to the backdrop of Kayano’s latest flick.

Before he knows it, a month’s passed by. Nagisa’s in high spirits and considering ending Makoto’s assassination prohibition soon when he comes to the realization of just what day is fast approaching.

Parent-teacher meetings.

Now that they’re a good four months into the year, he’s gotten a chance to know his students rather well. He knows their strengths, and he knows their weaknesses. He knows where they struggle and, ideally, he even knows some of their ambitions. But starting to know them means it’s best to get a peek at their home lives and make contact with their parents. And that’s never an easy feat.

Nonetheless, Nagisa steels himself and readies for the meetings. He tidies up the classroom, sends out notices to the parents, and gives the kids a heads up to pass the info on. He does one last check over of their progress reports and before he knows it, it’s the 16th.

Parent-teacher meeting time.

The first meeting scheduled is with Rin’s father. Nagisa goes over her grades with pride. She thrives most in Chemistry and Mathematics, but she’s able to pick up most anything with little effort. She struggles to communicate with her peers, but the ones she has taken to she gets along with well. Her father is delighted by her progress, but Nagisa voices concern he’s been told he’s not home enough.

Rin’s dad admits he’s been insanely busy with work. Ever since Rin’s mom passed away three years ago, he’s had to take up two jobs. He feels his tight-knit relationship with his daughter is falling apart, but isn’t sure what he can do about it. 

Nagisa tries to slide him some money under the table and says Rin is welcome at his place anytime if she ever needs a place to stay. Her father gracefully turns it down, but thanks him for the opportunity, and asks Nagisa to continue watching out for his daughter.

The more he learns, the more depressing it gets.

Yoshito was bullied intensely throughout all of primary school due to some sort of reputation passed down by his older sister. By the time he was pulled out of sixth grade, he’d been slammed into the wall so hard it left scars.

Two years ago Emiko was kidnapped and nearly drowned. Nagisa is genuinely baffled he hadn’t been let in on that _ before _ the school year had started. But it had only come up when he brought up her aquaphobia. That certainly explains Kazuki’s defensiveness of her, but just how nonchalant her parents are about the entire experience leaves a horrible taste in his mouth.

Minako was placed into a foster family just last year after being taken from an abusive home. Rosey comes from a family of compulsive hoarders. Misaki had been suffering from leukemia for years up until a few months ago and lives in fear of it relapsing. Hachirou’s self-esteem is down the drain. Minki’s parents talk over Nagisa the entire meeting. Riko locks herself in her room for hours on end, burying her face in her laptop. The problems seem to go on and on, and range from mild to fucking horrific. Aina’s failing math and Rikuto’s mom stumbles home drunk each night.

Of course, it’s not all bad. Chiharu has a massive extended family with no shortage of good things to say. Haruhi’s friends are the first she’s had in a long time, and seeing her hang with them after school brings her parents to tears. Matsuya got a part-time job this trimester, and Komoshi’s dad is so excited about his progress he slams a geode on the desk and says Nagisa can keep it as a thanks. (Nagisa doesn’t get it, either.)

He’s halfway through the list when the Hisakawas make their entrance.

The atmosphere of the room changes in an instant.

They’re extremely formally dressed and walk with their heads in the air. They have this look on their face that makes it seem like they really don’t want to be here. 

Nonetheless, Nagisa waves them over. He has two chairs pulled out in front of his desk. They give him a judgemental look over and he suddenly feels strikingly self-conscious about his own mode of dress. A simple blue vest over his punctured hand-me-down tie is unimpressive at best compared to Mr. Hisakawa’s precisely fitted suit, but Nagisa quickly attempts to shake the feeling. He’s modest, that’s all!

“Hello,” he says as they slide into their seats. Mr. Hisakawa’s lip curls with disgust as he pulls himself in. 

“Sorry about the mess,” Nagisa quickly adds on. Up until now he’d been rather proud of how he’d fixed up the room, but the disgusted way Mrs. Hisakawa looks over his classroom quickly makes him doubt that. “Things have been busy. You know how it is.  _ Kids.” _ He lets out an awkward chuckle.

The Hisakawas don’t laugh.

“We’re here to talk about Fumiko,” Mr. Hisakawa says, an unamused look in his eyes. Nagisa’s not sure why he tried that. From his head to his toes, he’s a no-nonsense man. Carefully dressed with his dark black tie, his equally dark hair is carefully slicked back. His brown eyes, almost crimson in hue are piercing.

“Indeed. What has she done?” Mrs. Hisakawa adds on. As bad as Nagisa feels thinking about it this way, she’s equally as off-putting. With her long, carefully groomed purple hair, and her dark eyes, she’s dressed in a blouse and skirt combo he’d reckon is more expensive than his average paycheck. She impatiently taps her high-heeled foot on the wooden floor.

“What has she _ done?”  _ Nagisa repeats, an even fouler taste growing in his mouth. “Er- Well - Fumiko’s done excellent, actually,” he says. “Her History grades are exceptional, and she’s no slacker at Science, either. Although she still struggles with Geology, she has an incredible understanding of Chemistry and Biology. She’s a hard worker, and she-”

“I’m sure she is,” Mr. Hisakawa dismissively interrupts. “But as for her other grades?”

Nagisa hates the way he says it. Why is he so quick to jump onto where she struggles? Where she excels, she excels, and she’s already come a long way. 

“...She still struggles with math,” he admits. “Additionally, her English and Language grades are mid-level. But she _ is _ making progress. I’ve considered inviting her over for tutoring, seeing as how I’m already tutoring another student she gets along with in similar subjects, but she’s told me she’s incredibly busy with after school activities.”

“Indeed,” her mother confirms. “She has piano and viola lessons. She’s also studying French, practicing flower arranging, and most-recently learning the art of fashion design. She has no time for that sort of thing at your establishment.”

_ ‘...Your establishment.’ Ma’am, it’s a fucking school! _

“Additionally,” her father interjects. “She still has plenty of time at home to study. She just doesn’t. She doesn’t exactly exert herself when it comes to her work.”

Nagisa knows that to be untrue. But he bites his tongue and stays quiet. It’s clear her parents aren’t very fond of her, and he knows from experience if he voices any concerns about their parenting,  _ she’ll _ be the one to be punished for it, not him.

“Of course, of course,” he says. “I just worry about how you expect her grades to improve at this rate.”

“To be frank, I don’t.” Mr. Hisakawa says. “Fumiko is… Not incredibly intelligent.”

It takes all of Nagisa’s self-control not to frown. He takes a deep breath, does what he’s always done, and hides the bloodlust rising in his gut behind a passive smile. He steeples his fingers, tilts his head, and resists the urge to grab Mr. Hisakawa by the throat.

“I’m not sure it’s fair to undermine her achievements like that,” he manages to say in a completely neutral tone. “Fumiko certainly thrives in other areas. When it comes to her skills, she’s the top of my class. Although I’d certainly never wish to diminish your concerns, as they come from an incredibly valid place, positive reinforcement does wonders.” 

He gives another smile, just for good measure.

Mr. Hisakawa frowns, and Nagisa feels his gut twist. “While I’m sure that’s easy to say considering the… Fiber of your class, you must understand Fumiko comes from an extremely renowned family. She’s a head above the average student,” he pauses. “Or, at least, she’s supposed to be. That’s our issue here.”

“I’d strongly prefer you don’t talk about my class that way,” Nagisa says, still hiding any twinge of irritation from his tone. “We may be an unorthodox bunch, but I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished here.”

Mr. Hisakawa nods. “Of course, of course. My apologies,” he says with all the sincerity of Karma during a game of Go-Fish. “I was not aware you did not view things the same way.”

Nagisa feels bile rise in his throat. Had this man seriously anticipated him to be the sort to look down on his own students!? The very notion makes him ill. He’s well aware those sorts exist, considering a youth filled with teachers like Takaoka and Asano-sensei, but he’d sooner die than view his kids as anything less than extraordinary.

He shakes his head, still refusing to let his irritation show. “My students are my pride and joy.”

Mr. Hisakawa’s lip twitches with disgust, but he doesn’t say anything.

...The horrible realization that he’d only send his daughter to an institution full of children he doesn’t respect if he didn’t respect her either is rising in Nagisa’s gut, but he doesn’t say anything either.

“Fumiko’s done wonderful,” he decides on, instead. “She’s a delight to have in class. And although she was…” He wants to say ‘standoffish,’ but fears that sounds too critical. The last thing he needs to do is give these people fuel to punish her. “...Antisocial at first, she’s quickly learned where she fits in. She gets along with her peers wonderfully. In particular, she’s made good friends with two boys seated near her, so there’s no need to worry about her being lonely.”

That doesn’t earn any sort of applause from the Hisakawas either. Nagisa is running out of topics here! Do they want to hear that their kid is lonely!?

“I see,” Mrs. Hisakawa says, absolutely no enthusiasm in her tone. “...Is there any other concerns you have to breach about our daughter, or can we be on our way? Our schedules are incredibly packed.”

“Of course, of course,” Nagisa says. “I’ll have you on your way as soon as possible.” He quickly looks over his papers. “I actually only have one concern in regards to Fumiko,” he says.

Mr. Hisakawa groans. “How has she acted out this time?”

“Oh, she hasn’t acted out at all-” Nagisa quickly reassures. “I just have some worries about her participation in certain class activities. I’ve had a discussion with her, and is it true the two of you have forbidden her from participating in assassination?”

It’s Mrs. Hisakawa’s turn to look repulsed. “Of course!” she says. “That’s no way for a proper young lady to be behaving. The last thing we need to be putting in her mind is thoughts like that.”

_ ‘Thoughts like that?’ _

“I understand your concerns, ma’am. I had the very same concerns when I first entered the assassination program myself,” Nagisa says, holding his hands up. But I must reassure you, my PE program does not encourage violence, and the moment anyone actually aims to hurt another I’d take quick action. Instead, the program focuses on skills like problem-solving, teamwork, and quick thinking. I really think it would be helpful for your daughter t-”

“Absolutely not,” Mrs. Hisakawa snarls. “She’s disobedient enough as is.”

“Of… Course,” Nagisa agrees, feeling violently ill. “I just worry about her feeling left out of class activities. I’m not sure you were aware, but Fumiko is the only one sitting out of assassination.” He decides not to mention Makoto for now. Makoto’s impromptu stabbing doesn’t exactly help his point. “...I worry she’ll get lonely.”

“She’ll be fine,” Mr. Hisakawa matter-of-factly says. “She’s a strong girl. I think she’ll survive.”

Nagisa sighs. It’s clear these two aren’t going to budge. 

“I see...” he says, staring at his hands.

Silence.

“Is that all you had to discuss?” Mr. Hisakawa asks.

“Yes,” Nagisa says.

“Then that’s all of our concerns as well. We’ll be on our way.” 

“Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to talk about her,” Nagisa says. “It means the world to me.”

The two of them don’t respond. Merely give a curt nod, and go on their way.

And with that, Mr. Hisakawa and his horrible wife are gone.

The moment the door closes, Nagisa lets out a massive sigh of relief. His fist starts to shake. And finally, he can scowl. They’re far from the worst parents’ he’s dealt with, but the way they talk about Fumiko hits a little too close to home. He’s starting to see why she turned out the way she did.

But that only strengthens his resolve. If they won’t support their daughter, he’ll be there in their stead.

He spends a full minute catching his breath, before straightening his tie and forcing his smile. As miserable as the Hisakawas were to deal with, he still has a full night of parent-teacher-conference-ing ahead of him, and the last thing he needs to do is give any of the other parents a bad impression.

Before he knows it, Mrs. Takamoto peeks her head into the room, and things continue as planned.

Minki’s mom feels disconnected from her. Nagisa gives her the scoop on some of Minki’s interests and sends her on her way.

Kiku’s father is worried about potential trauma from a car accident his daughter was in last year. They talk about her process, and Nagisa promises to keep an eye out for any signs of discomfort.

Kanon’s mom admits Kanon came out to her last month, and she’s worried about how her daughter will fit in the class. But Nagisa, bisexual extraordinaire, tells her Kanon will be right at home.

Ryoka’s mother is as loud as she is. Kaya’s parents are cold, but polite. Aina’s parents are brought to tears over her A in English, and Makoto’s parents don’t show up.

At first, Nagisa thinks he’s simply making a mistake, but as the minutes pass by, an unsettling realization starts to dawn on him. He checks his phone one more time, just for good measure: But it’s exactly as he’d expected.

Mr. Himura  _ had _ scheduled a meeting at this time (Or to be precise, ten minutes ago,) he just hadn’t shown.

The bitter taste returns to Nagisa’s mouth. There’s so much he’d intended to discuss with Mr. Himura. Among other things: His son’s grades, the neglect allegations, (well, “allegations.”) and Makoto staying over at Nagisa’s place. To see him bail entirely leaves an even fouler shadow over an already poor first impression.

But he supposes it’s not great to assume. Maybe he’s just late! He frowns, begins to nervously pace, and sends a text his way.

[7/14/2030 7:24 PM:] [Nagisa Shiota]: Hey! We had a parent-teacher meeting scheduled at this time. Are you on your way?

He waits one minute, then another. But Masuyo Himura doesn’t grace him with a response.

He sighs, pockets his phone, and flops back onto his chair. His gut twinges with irritation. He couldn’t even bother to give him a heads up!? How big of a selfish asshole do you need to be? He’d booked time for this! Surely other parents would have been glad to fill this slot, but now all he can do is wait.

...It’s like he doesn’t give a shit about Makoto’s future. No, not ‘like.’ He doesn’t. Nagisa’s conversations with Makoto have made that abundantly clear. But still, he’d wanted to hold out on some sense of hope. That he would have at the  _ very least _ wanted to hear what his son was up to. 

He shouldn’t have expected anything else. It _ was  _ Makoto who had to sign up to Constellate himself. Upon first seeing the application, Nagisa had found it both charming and worrying. On one hand, it showed a sort of determination he’d never seen before, but on the other hand, he’d had to wonder why the boy’s parents hadn’t filled it out themselves.

And now he has his answer. It’s hardly a satisfactory conclusion, though.

It’s not the first time something like this has happened. And he’s sure it will be far from the last. He’s had parents stumble in drunk, confrontational, or not show their faces at all. Hell, he’s had parents walk into his classroom just to shittalk their own kids.

The way Mr. and Mrs. Hisakawa had openly insulted their daughter still hangs heavy in his mind.

He just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get how these people can be blessed with such kind, intelligent, and unique kids, only to shun them. Don’t they see they’re failing them!? Don’t they know they won’t be kids forever? Don’t they see they’re messing them up for life? It’s easy to point fingers and say ‘of course they do.’ But in reality, it’s a lot more complicated than that. Nagisa knows these people. Nagisa was raised by one of ‘these people.’ They really do think they’re doing the right thing.

...This is why he could never be a parent.

It’s a debilitating concept. The idea of screwing up someone so royally without even having the gall to notice. As a teacher, he has somewhat of an outside perspective. He can piece together a student’s perspective before their parents. That’s a valuable asset. And he likes to think because of that he can step in to prevent disaster as much as possible…. That he can let these kids know they deserve to be loved - That they _ are  _ loved. But it’s hard. And he’s so, so scared he’ll fail these kids worse than their parents ever could.

With all they’ve been through, the stakes seem so high. He can’t afford to mess up.

He shakes his head, spins in his chair, and clears his mind. It may be a depressing reality, but he can’t focus on it. There’re still parents for him to deal with, aren’t there? He can’t go into a slump quite yet.

And speak of the devil, the door thrusts open.

**_“What’s up, cumsluts!?”_ **

Nagisa jolts, tense and startled as his head snaps towards the door. But his shoulders quickly lower when he catches sight of familiar blonde locks. 

“Don’t say that,” an exhausted voice commands as another familiar figure follows behind her.

Irina and Tadaomi Karasuma. Nagisa’s surviving teachers and the most dysfunctional but loving pair of adults he knows.

A genuine smile crosses Nagisa’s face as he waves them over. “Missed you too, Bitch-sens- Er - Irina,” he says, quickly reminding himself that that was an acceptable name to call her when he was fourteen, not now that he’s a working adult.

“No, no. No need to be a stranger,” Irina says with a smile. “Bitch-sensei works just fine. I dunno what I’d do at this point if you brats stopped trying to get under my skin.” 

Nagisa chuckles. “I know, I know,” he says. “It just feels so  _ unprofessional. _ I’m teaching your son now, y’know? What would he think?”

“I’ll have you know Kiyoshi would agree.” 

“He most certainly would not,” Karasuma says as he sits down. Irina slides into the chair next to him.

Nagisa has to agree with him. Kiyoshi loves his mother more than the world itself. Last time Nagisa’d almost called her by the borderline-slur in front of him he’d just about had a stroke.

“Anyway, anyway- That doesn’t matter,” Nagisa says. “It’s a relief to have you here. Let’s talk about Kiyoshi.”

Karasuma nods. “How has he been doing?"

“Great!” Nagisa says. “His grades are awesome. He aced his midterms. His English and Science scores were some of the best in the class. And he’s getting along with his classmates incredibly well.”

“Has he started to make friends?” Karasuma inquires.

“Sure has,” Nagisa confirms. “He gets along well with all of his classmates, but he’s really been taken in by this boy and girl seated next to him. Fumiko Hisakawa and Makoto Himura, if he’s said anything about them. I think they’re a pretty good match. He’s… A good influence on them. And it’s nice to see Kiyoshi coming out of his shell.”

Irina grins and grabs Karasuma’s hand tight. “Did you hear that?” she whispers, delight dripping from her voice. “He has friends!”

“I have ears, Irina,” Karasuma gently reminds her, but the tiniest smile crosses his face as well when he looks Nagisa’s way. “...Thank you,” he says. “I’m… Thrilled to hear that.”

He may say it with a mostly straight face, but he’s not fooling anyone. Nagisa’s known Karasuma longer than Kiyoshi’s been alive. He knows pride when he sees it.

He understands their excitement. He’s watched Kiyoshi grow up, too, after all. And Kiyoshi’s always had trouble with forming genuine bonds. Nagisa thinks it’s a result of his anxiety. Kiyoshi is incredibly capable of getting along with most anyone he meets, but it’s very rare Nagisa’s seen his relationships go beyond friendly acquaintances. He likes people (Or doesn’t, he’s plenty polite with people he can’t stand, too,) but doesn’t trust them to like him back.

Nagisa gets it. He really does. He’d grown up with similar feelings. But Makoto and Fumiko are different, much in the same way the E-Class had been for him. It’s a relief to see Kiyoshi fitting in with them so seamlessly.

“No problem,” he says with a nod and a smile. “I’m thrilled to see him doing well, too.”

“He actually asked about inviting some friends of his over the other day,” Irina says “I was like ‘What!? He’s getting along with people already!?’ So it’s… Good to hear it from you, too. Are they nice?”

Nagisa blinks, Makoto’s daredevil grin and Fumiko’s unamused scowl clear in his mind.

“...Eh. Enough.”

Irina must understand no-one is perfect, because she shrugs, chuckles, and says “Good enough for me.”

“Are you planning on actually letting them come over?” Nagisa asks.

_ “Duh,”  _ Irina replies. “He’s just been incessant on both of us being there for it. Which is so hard in between work, y’know? It feels like they’re giving us more hours every week.”

“We’re doing important work,” Karasuma points out. 

“Never said we weren’t. Just saying we’re also busting our balls.” 

“Don’t word it like that,” Karasuma begs. 

“How about tomorrow?” Nagisa says.

“I wish,” Karasuma says, rubbing his temple. “They’re already shipping me off tomorrow. There’s some stuff I’m supposed to investigate in Sudan. I’ll be gone before morning.” 

“This is what I mean!” Irina whines, leaning Karasuma’s way, and dramatically rolling her head on his shoulder. “We’re so _ busy! _ We don’t even have any time for getting hot and he-”

“Irina, breathe one word of our sex life to Nagisa and I am dragging you out of this room right here and now.”

Irina pouts and drapes herself across him further. “Presumptuous, much!? You didn’t even let me finish! How do you know I was gonna talk about sex?” She whines.

“No, no,” Karasuma says. “Give me one way to finish the phrase ‘hot and he-’ without it leading up to something sexual. Come on.” 

Irina pouts, but doesn’t give him an answer beyond a murmured “Asshole.”

“Let’s talk about your son!” Nagisa reminds them, desperately trying to avoid any thoughts about his teachers’ deranged sex life. “W- Where were we again?”

“His friends,” Karasuma says, shooting Irina an exhausted look.

“Ah… Yeah.”

He can’t help but empathize with Kiyoshi’s loneliness a little. Gone before morning? That’s a heartbreaking concept. He can’t imagine what it’s like to have parents’ so busy they can’t even make time to meet up with your first real friends. It’s not like Kiyoshi would insist on the two of them being there if he was anything except proud. This must mean a lot to him, too. To have that opportunity turned down time and time again…

No, that’s not a fair assessment. Karasuma’s right: They do important work. It’s not right for him to judge them over that.

“I’m sure you’ll find a time,” he says. “I get it, schedules are the worst. Thank you for both managing to make it here despite that.”

“Couldn’t miss it for the world,” Irina says. “Gotta check up on how our little boy is doing!” She pauses. “Kiyoshi, for the record, not you. Though we do need to check up on you, too.”

Nagisa sighs with all the vitriol of a five-foot grownass man just addressed as a little boy. 

Karasuma must catch the pure rancor emanating from Nagisa, because he shakes his head with disappointment and says. “How has everything else been? Is he doing well with assassination?”

Nagisa, who still has pipe dreams of shooting up to 6’10 upon hitting age 31 appreciates the abrupt topic change. 

“Awesome!” He says. “He doesn’t have a lot of physical strength, but he’s super agile. At first he was sort of hesitant to participate, but Makoto’s helped him with that, too. The moment he realized I’m not in any actual danger I think he let himself start having fun. He’s a good planner. I think if he had the initiative to take charge and be a leader more often he could really trip me up.” 

“Just give him some time,” Irina says with a smirk. “I’m sure he’ll whoop your ass eventually.”

Nagisa smirks back. “I’m sure he will.”

“Which only leaves one last topic for us to address, I feel,” Karasuma says. “Do you have any worries? I know entering middle school has been a big shift for him.”

“Actually? He’s been doing great,” Nagisa admits. “Of course, he still gets anxious easily, but we’ve been working on it. And like I said: I think his friends are helping him come out of his shell. I’d try not to worry too much.” He gives them a grin. “He’s on the right track.”

Karasuma lets out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. We can’t thank you enough, Nagisa… We don’t…” He pauses, before shaking his head. “Things have been difficult with raising Kiyoshi. So thank you for looking out for him.”

“Don’t thank me,” Nagisa says. “It’s nothing. You did the same for me, after all, didn’t you?”

It’s true. He’s been in Kiyoshi’s shoes. Maybe not to the same extent, but all those years ago when he had been an insecure, scared little kid, Karasuma and Irina had had his back. 

“Sure did,” Irina admits with a grin. “It’s still crazy that you little twerps are already all grown up. It feels like just yesterday I was stuck changing your diapers.”

Nagisa snorts. “I don’t think we were _ that  _ young, Irina,” he says, though he definitely feels what she’s saying. Every day his middle schoolers seem to feel younger and younger in comparison to him. Born in the year 2017? That’s not a real year! Those aren’t real students! Those are infants

“Eh. Young enough to make me feel stuck on babysitting duty.”

“You must have at least enjoyed it a little if you’re still around to pester me.”

“Don’t get too attached to the idea,” she jeers. “I just need someone to babysit my own twerp.”

“Simply a mother bitch performing her duty of watching out for her bitchling?” Nagisa snarks.

“I thought you were going to be mature this year and leave the whole ‘bitch’ thing behind?” Irina asks.

“Eh. I couldn’t resist,” he says, cracking a smile. “The room was starting to feel too stuffy without it.” 

“This is why I hated working with you kids,” Irina grumbles, barely managing to mask her own smile.

Nagisa chuckles. Karasuma doesn’t laugh along with them, but he does participate in his own way with an unamused snort.

“I’m actually… Really glad you two showed up,” Nagisa admits, leaning back in his chair. “You have  _ no idea _ how long my day has been.”

“Yeah. I sorta figured,” Irina says. “You look like shit.” 

“Gee, thanks,” Nagisa says, briefly reconsidering just how much Irina and Karasuma actually did to help with his own anxieties. 

“Let me guess. Insufferable parents?” Irina asks.

“Not even insufferable,” Nagisa says. “Just  _ shitty.  _ This pair comes in and just starts degrading their own daughter. Then they look my way like they expect me to join in. Like I’m not sure you realize, lady, but that is  _ not _ my job. I’m supposed to  _ nurture _ your kid, not tear them down.”

In the years following the closure of the E-Class system, Nagisa had often dwelled on how something like that had been allowed to come into fruition in the first place. Like, aside from Gakuho’s totalitarian policies, the fact that any of their parents had allowed them to be treated that way. But as he’d entered teacherhood himself and gotten to meet all sorts of people, he’d come to the horrifying realization that a lot of people  _ hate  _ their fucking kids.

People like those, people like the Hisakawas, make the world a little more dystopian. And they make his job a lot harder.

“Another guy didn’t even show up,” he continues. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“So I’m taking it we aren’t taking the award for most distressing parent-teacher meeting home tonight?” Irina asks.

Nagisa scoffs. “Absolutely not."

“Well fuck. We’ll have to step up our game next year.”

“We’re not doing that,” Karasuma says, eyes glued to his phone. “We should probably get going, actually. I need to get up early tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Nagisa says. “Thank you for stopping by.”

“Hey. It’s like we said: Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Irina reassures. “We’ll pass on the kind words to Kiyoshi, okay?”

Nagisa smiles and nods. He stands and exchanges a quick hug with Irina and a firm handshake with Karasuma before saying his goodbyes and sending them on their way.

He flops back on his chair with an exhausted groan. But one quick look over his schedule later, and he realizes they’d been the last meeting of the night. It’s a relief to have ended things on a high note.

What he’d said to them hadn’t been embellishment. He swears he would have had a fucking mental break if he’d had to deal with another parent who just couldn’t muster up the energy to give a shit about their own kid. Kiyoshi may have his issues, but at least he has parents who can pretend to care.

...Well, who  _ do _ care.

He just... Can't stop his mind from wandering. The way they’d rushed themselves out. The way they’ll probably rush to bed the moment they get home. It’s sad to think Karasuma will be gone before morning. What must that be like for Kiyoshi? Where’s the time for him? Nagisa knows his parents have been in and out all his life, and that’s a depressing reality… Even if they love him.

No. Even _ though _ they love him.

When he’d been young, it had seemed like the two of them had their lives toget-

Well. That’s not true, either. Even then, he’d known Irina was a complete weirdo. The woman would cuss out children and smoke a pack of cigs right in the school building. She was equal parts strange and endearing in regards to her behavior, and as the pieces of her past had come together… As her students had learned just what parts of growing up she’d missed, her behavior had started to make sense.

But Karasuma? Man, Karasuma was  _ the _ responsible one. In a classroom with Mrs. Horndog and Takoyaki-for-brains he’d seemed like the only sane man. He’d been the adult in a room full of kids and adults who’d never gotten to be kids.

But as Nagisa had reached adulthood himself, even that curtain had been peeled back. Now Karasuma just seems... Sad. The awkward, stilted way he approaches things. And the uncomfortable way he silently shuffles when his son’s issues come up.

If they don’t have it together, then no-one can. Sometimes that feels certain. They’re the ones Nagisa looked up to most, after all.

...Well, except Korosensei. But Korosensei hadn’t exactly had the best parenting track record, either, to be completely fair.

And he _ does _ look up to them. He  _ does _ respect them. He’d felt more relieved than anything when he’d caught sight of their familiar - their friendly - faces. He’d never doubt that. They’re his role models.

But they’re not perfect parents, either. And watching the way Kiyoshi carries himself... The insecurities he seems to voice every day of his life... it makes his heart ache.

...Because the adults he trusts the most don’t know what they’re doing, either.

* * *

He gets the call at 8:12.

He got home at half-past 7. Ate dinner with his spouses, and complained about just how insane his day had been. At 8 Kayano had peeked out for an early bedtime, while Karma and Gakushuu had retreated to do some of their respective paperwork.

Nagisa’s fiddling with his phone and checking up on some of his ex-students’ Instagrams when his phone starts to ring. He scrambles to answer it, considering the last thing he needs is the Sonic Ninja theme song blasting throughout the house (The house that his wife is trying to sleep in, mind you) at 8 in the evening.

“H-Hello!?” he answers, acutely coming to the realization that he hadn’t even noted who was calling him. For all he cares, he’d just picked up a spam ca-

“Hello,” a familiar deep voice answers.

Nevermind. He’s picked up something worse.

“...Hi, Gakuho,” he says, desperately attempting the disgust from his voice.

Gakuho Asano: Gakushuu’s father, and the ex-principal of Kunugigaoka. Nagisa had met him a fair number of times in his youth, and barring graduation, none of them had exactly been positive. He’d tried his best to respect the man for what he was: A skilled and hardworking leader who just had a few issues. But as he grew and grew, and as he got to know Gakushuu better, all the respect that he’d had for his former principal had quickly faded. 

...Much like his own belief in his mother had petered out throughout the years.

“What do you want?” he adds on, careful to keep his tone polite. He’s not exactly fond of the man, but being needlessly rude won’t fix anything, either. “It’s sorta late, y’know.”

“I’m aware,” Gakuho replies, the closest thing he can muster to an apology in his tone. “I tried to call you earlier, but you didn’t pick up.”

“Ah,” Nagisa says. “Must have missed it. I was busy with parent-teacher meetings.” He gives a stifled laugh. “Busy day, busy day.”

Gakuho doesn’t laugh back. “As for what I’m calling you for: I actually had an inquiry about your school.”

Nagisa bites his tongue. That’s about what he’d expected. Ever since he opened Constellate, Gakuho’s been jumping up his ass. In fact, before he’d even opened the school, Gakuho had offered to let him come teach at his new cram school. But in between the bustle of Paradise and the whole ‘seriously abused his husband’ thing, Nagisa had had to turn down the offer. It’s clear Gakuho respects him as an educator, but Nagisa can’t really return the praise considering he feels Gakuho hardly respects him as a PERSON. He just can't. Not with how poorly Gakuho had treated him when he was a deeply insecure 14-year old.

“Huh?” Nagisa asks. “Hit me. You know I’m always happy to talk about Constellate.”

_ With literally anyone except you!  _

Nagisa shuffles uncomfortably on the couch.

“I was wondering as to what you were planning to do for your sports festival. We’ve been planning some pretty grand things for Fukujusō, but we’ve been looking for a competitor. If you’re not planning anything, we’d be honored to face off against your students.”

Nagisa sighs. “Sorry. We already sort of have plans,” he admits. And it’s not a complete lie! He’s been planning a sort of intra-class competition for the second trimester in place of a sports festival. Think Capture The Flag meets Paintball meets Cops and Robbers, tourney style. He’s been toying with the idea for a little while, and it sounds pretty fun. At least more fun than competing against his husband’s abusive father sounds. The last thing he needs is his students getting called, like, a slur by a 56-year-old man.

“Ah… I’d expected as much,” Gakuho says disappointedly. “A shame, but an understandable one. I suppose I’d just been eager to hear about what your students are getting up to. I’ve heard fascinating things, you know.”

He and Nagisa both know that’s not the real reason he’s calling, but Nagisa doesn't dare voice that.

“Ahaha. I’m flattered to hear that,” Nagisa mumbles. “I’ve been working really hard, so I’m glad to hear the news is getting out there.”

“Indeed. You just finished up with your first round of students, yes? How was that?”

“Oh, great,” Nagisa says, desperately wishing for this conversation to just end already. “It’s crazy how well students can thrive when they actually have a proper support system.”

He doesn’t realize how passive-aggressive that sounds until Gakuho falls abruptly silent.

“I- Uh-” Nagisa says. His instinct is to apologize, but on second thought he’s not going to apologize for saying that children deserve to have people supporting them, no matter how polite he’s trying to be. Gakuho would have to be a fucking psychopath to disagree with that notion.

“Of course,” Gakuho finally says. He doesn’t argue with Nagisa, so if he’s a psychopath he’s decided to keep that one to himself. “And how are your new students?”

“They’re amazing,” Nagisa says without a moment of hesitation. “Clever and hardworking and creative. What about yours?”

“They’re intelligent.” There’s a long pause. “And bright. They’re intelligent and bright.”

Nagisa supposes he’ll take that over just ‘intelligent.’

To be frank, he’s a little unsettled Gakuho got back into the teaching industry at all. After the allegations came out about Kunugigaoka, he’d been swiftly removed from his position to save face. And Nagisa had anticipated that to be the end of that. Truly, he’d felt a little bad for Gakuho, but understood it had probably been for the best.

...Gakuho had gotten back into the system within two years.

By 2017 he’d opened up his own brand new school. Admittedly, it was nothing grand, just a humble little cram-school in the plains. But it had still left a weird taste in Nagisa’s mouth, especially considering Nagisa was just really getting to know Gakushuu. In hindsight, nothing concerning has come out about Fukujusō. In fact, Nagisa’s only heard great reception from his former students. But it still feels wrong, somehow.

Like… _ ‘After all you’d done to us… After all you’d done to your own son, why do you get a second chance?’ _

He knows it’s a hypocritical notion. After all, Korosensei’s entire school year had been one big second chance. Because of Korosensei, Nagisa tries his best to believe that if anyone genuinely wants to redeem themselves, they’re capable of it. But it’s hard to scrub the way Gakushuu flinches when someone raises their voice from his mind.

It’s not even that Gakuho’s a completely bad person. He’s friendly enough. Formal, but polite. (At least, to the adult Nagisa.) And not only is  Fukujusō genuinely successful, but he’d sold the E-Class building and property to Nagisa and the others on a massively reduced price. Nagisa never could have opened Constellate where he did without Gakuho’s help. And Gakuho had sent him a letter of congratulations the moment Constellate opened its doors.

So it’s not that Nagisa isn’t happy for Gakuho. He is! Plenty! At least, he wants to be. He’s just a little scared, too.

“That’s awesome,” he finally says. “But, uh - I should really get going. Like I said, it’s late.”

It’s not really. Often he ends up staying up far into the AM hours. But he can’t carry on this conversation a moment longer. The awkward Gakuho brings up far too many convoluted feelings.

“Very well,” Gakuho says. There’s a long moment of silence, before he begs, in an almost childish voice. “Tell Gakushuu I said hello, okay?” 

...And there it is. The real reason he’d called.

“Of course.” Nagisa says. “I’ll pass it on.”

“...Thank you,” Gakuho says. And without another word, he hangs up.

Nagisa sits in silence.

It’s four years ago that Gakushuu had cut Gakuho off. And it had been Nagisa’s idea. Gakushuu’s competitive streak against his father had never really faded, even as his respect for the man dwindled. As he’d come to loathe Gakuho for what his father had put him through he’d only seeked further to usurp him. And it never once ceased to be deeply stressful, for Gakushuu or the people around him. So finally, Nagisa and Karma had put their feet down and begged him to stop keeping up with his father. It had seemed the only way possible to get him to stop trying to outdo him and just live his own life.

It’s still a decision Nagisa has complicated feelings about. Gakushuu’s doing much better as far as he can tell, but oftentimes he worries that wasn’t his decision to make. A hypocritical notion, considering it had actually been Gakushuu and Karma stepping in that made Nagisa finally cut off his own mother.

In his third year of high school, she’d had a particularly manic breakdown. She hadn’t been happy with his plans for his future job and had flipped out on him. It resulted in several broken ribs and a trip to the hospital.

He’d been dating Gakushuu and Karma for about a year at that point. And they themselves flipped out a little, too. Gakushuu in particular begged Nagisa to just abandon his mom.

It had been a painstaking decision to come to.

Nagisa loved his mom. And he still does. He worries about her every day. She’s… Not a bad person. With time, and with perspective, it’s been easy to learn that she was pretty clearly traumatized in her own right, too. She’d been hurting. And it was something even he couldn’t fix. Fuck, man, he was just a kid. Of course he couldn't! But she  _ had _ been mistreated, perhaps like her mother before her. And she’d passed on the torch. Finally, when she’d grown up and found the control she so desperately craved, she’d mistreated her son in her stead.

...And he could just as easily mistreat someone in the future.

The notion leaves a twisted, sick, feeling in his gut. 

Either way, he’d eventually succumbed. He’d remembered his promise to his mother on that fateful night, holding the torch high. If worst were to come to worst, he’d graduate from her, too.

...So he had.

He still considers it one of the hardest things he’s ever done in his life. But Karma and Gakushuu had been there to help him pack his boxes and move into a temporary apartment. They’d been there for the emotional stuff, too. And they’d been there for him when he’d called them during late-night breakdowns, desperate to rescind his decision. 

‘His mom needed him! He’d been wrong!’

But he never went back. And so, years later, when he’d worried for Gakushuu in the same way, he’d placed his hand on his shoulder and talked from experience.

“It’s time to let go.”

He wishes Gakuho would make this easier on Gakushuu. Ever since the cutoff, he’s tried desperately to stay in contact with Nagisa. He frames it as a coworker sort of thing. And while Nagisa doesn’t doubt Gakuho respects his accomplishments, he knows deep down it’s about Gakushuu. He just wants his son back. But it’s too late for that. And Nagisa’s sick of being used as a mouthpiece for ‘hellos’ that only bring back sour memories.

_ If you wanted your son to love you, you should have loved him when he needed you, jackass! _

He sighs and stands. Pockets his phone with an ever-so-shaky hand and makes his way into the lounge.

Karma’s no longer there. Gakushuu’s sitting on the couch, neatly organized paperwork propped up against his lap on a binder.

Nagisa takes a seat next to him. 

“Where’s Karma?” he asks.

“He finished up,” Gakushuu says. “He bothered me for a little while, but I told him to scram considering I’m trying to work.”

“Hope you don’t mind me bothering you for a little while?” Nagisa asks, leaning gently on Gakushuu’s side.

“Not at all. At least you know when to shut your mouth,” Gakushuu replies, leaning back onto him.

He’s quiet. Just focuses on Gakushuu’s presence. The sound of him breathing up and down, and the lavender gleam in his eyes.

_ Why had someone tried to smother that out? _

“You look stressed,” Gakushuu finally says, his eyes flickering between Nagisa and his papers. “Thinking about the parent-teacher meetings again?”

That’s his second time today hearing the whole ‘you look stressed’ thing. He’s starting to think he really needs a cold shower.

“Sorta,” he says, falling silent for a long moment. “Your dad called.”

Gakushuu frowns deeply. “Oh,” he simply says.

In the past he’s discussed whether or not it was healthy for him to tell Gakushuu these things. But ultimately his need to tell the truth came out on top. He thinks Gakushuu at least appreciates the sincerity. He’s someone who places cold hard facts above ‘simple’ feelings.

...On second thought, that’s probably his dad’s fault, too.

“He framed it as a school thing again,” Nagisa explains. “But he told me to ‘pass on his regards’”

Gakushuu’s lip curls with disgust. “Ew.”

‘Ew,’ indeed.

“Next time I’m blocking him,” Nagisa says. “I’m sick of this. It’s not fair to you, and it’s just annoying to me.”

“...You don’t need to do that,” Gakushuu says. “I know how important connections are in the industry. I wouldn’t want t-”

“The industry?” Nagisa says with a snort. “It’s _ education. _ I think I’ll be fine. I’m already doing great, aren’t I?”

Gakushuu pauses. He puts his things aside, placing his binder on the table. Deep in thought, he returns to his seat beside Nagisa.

“I have no doubts that man would blackmail you. The last thing we need is him tarnishing your name.”

Nagisa… Sincerely doubts he would. Perhaps the Gakuho they’d known in the past, but nowadays he seems almost… Defanged. Where he was once an opportunistic, ruthless sociopath, he seems to have devolved into a sad, estranged, jackass. He  _ has _ ‘improved,’ at least morally. But he hadn’t when it had really mattered. So as thankful as he is for the whole ‘probably not going to get blackmailed’ thing, he’s not about to give Gakuho the Nobel Peace Prize.

“I’d like to see him try.”

Gakushuu’s frown doesn’t fade. “...He’s dangerous, Nagisa,” he says, shuffling uncomfortably. “Listen. Why don’t… I talk to him. Just this once. I know how to get through to the man. I’ll simply tell him to leave you alone, and-”

“No, Gakushuu,” Nagisa says. 

Gakushuu frames it so logically. In his coldly calculated way. ‘Only once,’ he says ‘Something, something, I know the inner mechanisms of that bastard’s mind.’ Like it’s for the greater good, and he’s the only hero who can stand up and defeat the villain.

But Nagisa sees right through that horseshit. It’s not objective truth that only Gakushuu can get them out of this situation. It’s just another argument Gakushuu wants - No,  _ needs _ \- to win against his father. More than life itself he wants one last hurrah - The last laugh - The victory he’s so desperately craved to find over Gakuho.

...But he won’t find it talking Gakuho down from contacting Nagisa. Nagisa knows that much. It’ll simply re-enforce that his self worth comes from how he compares to his father, and leave his victory as hollow as each that had come before it.

“It’s not healthy.”

Gakushuu gives a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I- This isn’t about- This isn’t about me-” he mutters. “I simply wish for him to leave you alone. And I  _ don’t _ want you to confront him. It’s only going to make him mad. Let him think it’s my decision.” he pauses. “It is. That… I don’t want you talking to him. That I don’t want him in my life at all.”

A solid argument, minus the whole ‘I don’t want him being mad at you, so I’ll face his wrath instead.’ A touching notion, but a fucking depressing one.

“I know. And I’m proud of you for that,” Nagisa says. “But don’t worry about me. I’ll deal with him. And then we’ll never have to think about him again.”

Gakushuu shuffles uncomfortably. 

Nagisa knows what he wants. He wants a glorious confrontation that closes all the open ends. He wants to feel powerful. He wants to feel in control. He wants to feel  _ safe.  _ Nagisa gets it. He gets it more than anything. But this won’t give him that. It’ll make him feel more unsafe than ever. Because… Real life doesn’t work like that. You don’t just get to punch your abuser in the face and march off victorious. Because that doesn’t fix what they did to you.

A victory won’t mend you. Regardless of how badly Gakushuu wants to believe everything can be won. Gakuho’s done his damage. And that doesn’t mean he’s won, either. No-one won. Now all Gakushuu has left to fight against is himself. Because Gakuho won’t give him peace. He’s a selfish jackass who will only make him remember how he got this messed up in the first place.

But… He’s not exactly sure how to articulate that. He’s not sure any words could ease the ache in Gakushuu’s gut. So instead he leans on his shoulder, breathes deeply, and rests a hand on his lap.

Often, Nagisa wonders if he’d made the right decision about his mom. He misses her every day. Or, at least - He misses what they could have been. But… He likes to think he’s doing better. And he also likes to think that’s because of the decision Karma and Gakushuu helped him make. He’s still not sure they’ve convinced Gakushuu to do what’s right. It’s too early to tell. Four years seems like a long time, but in the scope of years of mental degradation, it’s _ not.  _ He doesn’t know if this will fix Gakushuu. He doesn’t know if either of them can be ‘fixed!’ But… He has to believe. And he has to protect Gakushuu from his own demons.

“Okay,” he says, trying to come to a compromise. “How about… You listen. Next time he calls me, I’ll let you listen, and you can hear me give him a piece of my mind. Tell him I don’t want anything to do with someone who hurt my soulmate.  _ I’ll  _ face him. And then we never think about him again. Does that sound good?”

Gakushuu’s quiet.

“That sounds good,” he reluctantly admits.

“Alright. Then it’s a plan.”

He doesn’t know it it’s a good one. He doesn’t know if it’ll offer closure. He doesn’t even know if closure exists! But he has to try. Because he’s sick of thinking about anyone hurting the people he loves.

Gakushuu snuggles up against him. Slowly blinks and rests his head on Nagisa’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” He pauses. “...I know I’m being difficult.”

“No. You’re not,” Nagisa says without a moment of doubt. “You’re just hurting. I know.”

Gakushuu sounds close to tears. “...Yeah. You always have.” 

Nagisa gently runs his fingers through his hair. “I try my best.”

But sometimes, he fears that’s not enough. That no matter how hard he tries he’s just not capable of protecting the people around him. And he should. As a teacher - And as a husband - He’s supposed to know these things. The people who have been there for him  _ always have.  _ But… he doesn’t. And that’s his own demon to fight. The one fear he may never be rid of... That he's been thinking of all day: That he won’t be enough for his students. For his friends. For his spouses. Or for…

He speaks softly. “Hey… Gakushuu. Do you remember when Kayano asked us if we wanted a baby?”

Gakushuu jolts. His mouth opens, then slowly closes. He’s quiet, for a long moment.

“Of course,” he says. “...That’s awfully sudden to bring up.”

Nagisa sighs and anxiously places his free hand in his pocket. “I know. I’ve just been thinking about it all day.”

It had happened three years ago. Kayano had brought up the idea, and Karma had been ecstatic. Nagisa and Gakushuu had fell hesitantly on board at first, but it had been too much. Two months into the pregnancy Nagisa had had a massive panic attack and confessed he wasn’t ready for this. He’d wanted to make them happy, but knew he couldn’t trust himself.  _ Knew  _ he wouldn’t make a good dad. He didn’t know what to do! It’s not like he’d ever had loving parents himself!

Soon after, Gakushuu had tearfully confessed to having similar anxieties. They’d talked it over for a long time, and ultimately came to the conclusion to terminate the pregnancy and wait to have a child until the two of them were ready.

_...If _ they’d ever be ready. Nagisa doesn’t feel like he ever will be.

Meeting the Hisakawas. Not getting to meet the Himuras. Watching the Karasumas flounder, and hearing the undeservedly self-pitying Gakuho across the phone. It seems like reminders are all around him.

“Ah. So the parent-teacher meetings _ did _ get to you,” Gakushuu notes.

“Just a little,” Nagisa admits. “It’s like… These people don’t realize they’re screwing up their kids! Then your stupid dad had to call, and I dunno - It makes me mad! He genuinely seems to believe he’s the victim here. After everything he did to you. I’m… Scared, Gakushuu. I’m scared I’ll end up the same way.”

Gakushuu silently places a hand on Nagisa’s shoulder.

“I… Don’t know what I’m doing. Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning. And… It feels like that wouldn’t be happening if it hadn’t been for my mom. Do you… Do you ever feel like they messed us up for life?”

“Of course,” Gakushuu says. “Every day. But that’s why we made the decision we did. To not put anyone else through that.”

“...Which is… Fine.” It’s not. It’s really not. Because it’s not that Nagisa doesn’t want to have a family. He loves the idea. And he  _ knows  _ Gakushuu does, too. He wants to watch someone grow up. He _ wants  _ a child to give everything he never had. And he wants to give Kayano and Karma the life they deserve. “But… Other kids are relying on me, too.”

So, so many of them don’t have a support system of their own. And so, so many parents don’t know what they’re doing. Rin’s father said he loved her more than life itself. And the way he gushed about her left Nagisa with no doubts about that. But she’s still left feeling abandoned. Minako’s foster family doesn’t know what to do when he flies into a rage, and Irina Karasuma seemed genuinely surprised when she heard the news that her son had made his first real friends at thirteen.

They’re lost. And they’re confused. And they don’t know what they’re doing. They don’t mean to… Or they do, (The Hisakawa’s cold eyes still stick out clear in his mind.) but… It feels inevitable their kids are going to grow up broken, too.

They’re relying on him. He’s all some of them have. They need him like he needed Korosensei. But… He’s _ not  _ Korosensei, and he never will be. 

“What if I can’t help them, Gakushuu? They need me. But I don’t know what I’m doing.” He’s so, so good at pretending he does. At least, in front of them. But he doesn’t. He can’t fix Makoto’s home situation. All he can do is try his best to make up for it! He doesn’t know what to say to Fumiko on Monday. How to truly let her know she’s worth something and have her believe it. He doesn’t know how to tell Kiyoshi he belongs, or make his dad stay home for _ one day. _ “...What if… I can’t help them?”

He’s not their parents. He can’t replace them. He can try all he wants, but there’s 24 of them, and only one of him. If even one falls through the cracks, he knows he’ll never forgive himself.  _ “What if I mess them up?” _

Gakushuu slowly takes his hand off of Nagisa’s shoulder. Reaches for his hand, and squeezes it tight.

“...You won’t, Nagisa. I know that much for certain. You work yourself to the bone. To the point where we  _ worry.  _ You care. You care more than anything.”

“And what if that’s not enough!? What if I can’t fix them?”

Gakushuu’s very, very quiet.

“...Then they’ll survive,” he says. “At risk of sounding apathetic or cruel, _ they’ll survive. _ Maybe you can’t fix them. But you can be there for them. Even when the world shatters around them. I know you will. And I know they’ll be okay. You know why I know that?”

“...Why?”

“...Because we turned out pretty okay, didn’t we?”

Nagisa slowly buries his face in Gakushuu’s chest. Gakushuu rubs his back in circles as Nagisa focuses on the way he breathes up and down. They’re hurt, and they’re messed up, and they’re scared. But they’re alive, and they’re together, and they’re okay. They made it this far.

“Yeah. I guess we did."

It’s Gakushuu’s turn to run his fingers through Nagisa’s hair. “...They’re already off to a better start than most. You’re there for them. And… As reluctant as I am to say this,  _ most teachers aren’t. _ They… Already have a lot more than I had. You’re their Korosensei. Their beacon.”

And Nagisa keeps trying to tell himself that. Every day. But when he watches Misaki cry and he doesn’t know what to say… When he finds himself up in the dead of night, his head pounding as he desperately tries to finish up next week’s lesson plan… He knows he’s not Korosensei. He knows he never will be. That’s a notion he’d tried to come to terms with before he’d even become a teacher. But sometimes… It hurts. Because sometimes _ he _ still hurts. And if Korosensei couldn’t protect him, then there’s no way he can protect anyone.

“Mmm,” he says.

“You know what that feels like. You’ve told me all about it,” Gakushuu says. “...The way you felt when that man gave you the first praise you’d ever received in your life. You’re doing that for them, too. So don’t you dare fucking degrade yourself. Maybe… We wouldn’t make good dads. But that’s different. It’s not your job to be their  _ father. _ It’s your job to be their guide. And if you ask me, I think you’re the best guide they could possibly have.”

Nagisa has to blink back tears.

“Those kids idolize you. You’re their hero. So if you ever doubt yourself, just remember that.” 

Nagisa slowly nods. “Of course.” He lays for one moment more against Gakushuu’s chest, then pulls himself away. He looks Gakushuu in the eyes and musters a tiny smile. “...Thanks, Gakushuu. I know I was being a little difficult there, too.”

Gakushuu gives a shrug. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “...You were just worrying. And I get it. I worry too. But I believe in you. And I believe your students will be alright.”

And Nagisa tries to believe as well. But deep down, he doesn’t want to believe his students will be alright. He wants to  _ know. _ He wants to  _ know _ one day Minako will feel okay. He wants to  _ know _ one day day Rin’s father will be there for her. He wants to  _ know  _ Misaki will survive and  _ know _ one day Emiko will be able to step in the pool without flinching. He wants to  _ know _ Kiyoshi will believe in himself, and _ know _ one day Fumiko will run free. He wants to  _ know _ he’s enough, and he wants to  _ know  _ Makoto will get the life Korosensei deserved.

But he doesn’t know. And as a teacher, that’s the most terrifying possibility of all.

“I think we should head to bed,” Gakushuu says. “It’s a tad early, but I think we’ve both had an incredibly long day.”

Nagisa hesitates, but nods. “I… Think I’d like that.”

Gakushuu stands, takes Nagisa’s hand, and pulls him to his feet.

They head upstairs and tiptoe into bed, careful not to disturb the already slumbering Kayano. Nagisa slides in next to her, and Gakushuu slides in next to him. Nagisa scoots closer to Kayano, and Gakushuu wraps an arm around his back.

“Night,” he whispers.

“Love you,” Nagisa whispers back.

And in the dark of the night, Nagisa is left alone with his thoughts. But listening to the gentle way the once grief-stricken Kayano snores… Feeling the once untouchable Gakushuu’s tenseness fade as he dozes off into slumber… And listening to the once selfish Karma silently make his way into the room… He must wonder if sometimes all Korosensei could do was try and believe, too.

It’s a sort of reassuring notion. And as Karma slides into bed, Nagisa tries to remind himself of Gakushuu’s words.

_...He turned out pretty alright, didn’t he? _

Somewhere in the city, Makoto dozes off on a lonely futon. Miles from him Fumiko lies alone in her massive room, and Kiyoshi stares up at his ceiling, wondering. But they think of each other. And they think of Nagisa. And perhaps, they’re alright, too.

In due time, sleep takes Nagisa as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how a few chapters ago I apologized for it feeling a little bleak? [Nervous laughter] I'd like to extend that apology here. This one is a real BUMMER. Things will cheer up a bit soon, but there's some darker themes I definitely felt the need to delve into here with where the story's been heading. Needless to say the idea of abuse and recovery from abuse is a big, BIG thing in this story, and in between Gakushuu's intense trauma-based worries last chapter and Fumiko and Makoto's godawful parents, things have been pretty much building up to this.
> 
> As fucked as it was, I actually had a lot of fun coming up with how the class was struggling. I don't remember if I've shared this fact before, but they're actually all other OCs of mine from various stories. And taking, say, a random DND character (Like Rin is an expy of) and adapting her individual insecurities to smth that actually works in a normal ass setting is SURREAL. 
> 
> I'd comment on the Hisakawas and Makoto's father, but feel I hardly need to. I think the writing speaks for itself. They SUCK.
> 
> Had fun writing Irina and Karasuma. I've had Irina inviting herself into Nagisa's classroom with a triumphant "What's up, Cumsluts!?" ever since I first conceptualized this fic, and I'm... Strangely relieved to finally have that dumb joke on paper. I also enjoyed showcasing the drastic difference between them and many other parents showcased in this chapter with their genuine care. But I also had fun showcasing how sometimes care isn't enough, and they're flawed parents in their own right, too.
> 
> Had fun raking Gakuho through the mud. Needless to say, I don't respect him. He's a weird character, and I had a weird time writing him, namely because his characterization in canon is so... Inconsistent. His "redemption" arc in canon is half assed and feels extremely shallow. That said I ultimately settled on a characterization portraying him as someone genuinely trying to do better, but that not being enough to make it up to the people he hurt. He has this pathetic sort of regret to him, but I hope that doesn't sympathize him too much. Because my goal is NOT to make you sympathize with him. There's this deep sort of lonely ache he feels with his situation, but he's brought it all upon himself. So his sad divorced dad energies are just karma.
> 
> Also about time I popped the reveal that the quartet has considered having a kid for a WHILE now. This is actually something that weighs on Nagisa and to a lesser extent Gakushuu a LOT, so expect to see it come up again in the future.
> 
> Sorry this chapter wasn't super Makoto/plot focused, but he got his fair share of spotlight over the past three. This was a sort of transition chapter between the last arc and the next one, which will be the last of trimester one! This fic will actually be covering all three trimesters of the school year, and this first one has VERY MUCH felt introductory to me. (90k words of introduction... What's this Genfic slowburn nonsense?) We're just getting started, so Makoto and his respective... Situation springing from Korosensei will come up a LOT in the future. That said, however, the next arc is not his. It's a Fumiko arc, so get buckled down and prepared. It's gonna be fun, intense, and just a little bit upsetting.
> 
> I'm not sure if the next chapter will be up next week or the week after because I'm not exactly sure if I want to split the next arc into one chapter or two yet. So don't count on a next week upload, but don't count the possibility out yet! We'll just have to see.
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were Better Than Before from Next To Normal, Be More Chill Part 1 from... duh, Be More Chill (A great theme song for the Hisakawas if you ask me), 1,000 Ships by Rachel Platten (It just has a fun Irisuma energy to me), Runs In The Family by Amanda Palmer, Sorry About Your Parents by Icon For Hire, and Turning Out by AJR. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you thought, 'cause I'll make sure to have the next one ready as soon as possible! o/


	12. Hisakawa Time

Days pass and Nagisa works on freeing his mind from the stress of Parent-Teacher meetings. The school year begins to inch towards the end of the first trimester, and Makoto is freed from his probation.

He returns to assassination, and he returns to it with more vigor than ever. He’d already been enthusiastic about the ‘senseless violence’ of his PE classes, but now he’s _ enthralled. _ He laughs, and he grins, and he schemes.  Each ploy to knock Nagisa down more intense than the last. And each day after school as he chips away at his worksheets, with the big fat yearbook sitting on the table between them, he excitedly recalls an E-Class kid pulling a similar stunt.

“Do you remember the time Hara slashed me like that!?” He makes a slicing motion with his hands.  _ “Woosh!” _

Sometimes he recalls stuff even Nagisa doesn’t remember. He’d forgotten that once Hazama had accidentally(?) smacked Terasaka in the back of the head with an anti-sensei bullet. And about that time that Rio and Maehara had tried to sneak into Karasuma’s car during lunch break and hop on board for a free ride to WcDonalds. No sooner than they had tried to open the vehicle when Kataoka caught them and dragged them back to class by their ears.

His recollection of events can be better than Nagisa’s, sometimes. Nagisa will be telling a story when he’ll interject and correct him on a chain of events

Makoto doesn’t just remember the past. He _ lives  _ in it. 

Nagisa will catch him staring off into space before quickly shaking his head. He says it’s nothing, but each time he has something more to share. He’ll crack a grin and share a new anecdote or ask a new question as the pieces begin to finally fit together for him. 

But as Makoto thrives, Nagisa worries.

Because another student of his seems to be doing significantly less well.

Fumiko seems more withdrawn now than ever. She watches the rest of the class spar with Nagisa, her knees pulled up to her chin and her fingers steepled. She stares intensely at the ground, careful to not betray a single glimmer of hope in her eyes. But Nagisa sees through it in an instant. There’s this forlornness to her gaze.

One day, Makoto asks Nagisa if she’s lonely.

And Nagisa has to wonder, too.

Kiyoshi offers to sit out with her. But Nagisa shoots that idea down in an instant. Kiyoshi’s really found himself in strategizing for assassination. He’s excellent at coming up with plans, even if he’s shy to share them. When he puts his head together with Makoto and acts, PE is a great place for him to find some confidence. Nagisa would hate to take that away from him.

And so he takes this upon himself.

He’s having the kids face off against each other for the second or third time this year when he finds himself alone with Fumiko. As much as they can learn from trying to best him, they can learn just as much from each other. He’s watched them closely before, and trusts them enough to, like, not crack each other’s heads open, so he decides to hang out in the safe-haven of the science room as he watches them as opposed to hovering right near them. He tells them to stay close to the building and says he simply wants to see what they can accomplish without him being a distraction. But the reality of the situation is he just wants to keep Fumiko company.

While typically she sits outside on the doorstep, she’s decided to remain indoors with him today. It’s sweltering hot, so he gets it. The last thing she needs to do is have a heat stroke over something she’s not even participating in.

Speaking of-

He cracks the window down and shouts.

“Make sure to drink your water, everyone!”

_ “We will!” _ a chorus of annoyed voices replies.

“What happened to not being a distraction!? Leave us alone, old man!” Hachirou grumbles, not even bothering to look Nagisa’s way. His eyes are too trained on Rosey, who he’s diligently trying to pelt with a NERF gun. (Yes, he’d downgraded them to NERF from BB for their PVP experience.  _ He _ can handle being impaled by pieces of plastic, the literal children cannot.)

Nagisa gives an exhausted chuckle as he closes the window. He faintly hears Makoto shout something along the lines of “Hey! Be nice!” Hachirou’s way as he scrambles after Kiyoshi.

He’s set them up in pairs. Their goal is to ‘kill’ their opponent as many times as possible during the allotted time period. He’s sure eventually he’ll let them have a free-for-all, but that day is _ not  _ today.

He’d initially hesitated to set Kiyoshi and Makoto up as opponents considering the whole anxious child vs literal reincarnation of a serial killer thing, but he’d quickly realized Kiyoshi’s a lot stronger than he lets on. His dad taught him all sorts of self-defense maneuvers when he was younger, and all it takes is Makoto grabbing him the wrong way  _ once _ for Makoto to end up flipped over onto the ground.

He yanks the window open again.

“Remember to be gentle, Kiyoshi!” he chides.

“A-Ah! Sorry!” Kiyoshi says, scrambling to help a cackling Makoto to his feet.

_ “Nice one!”  _

 “Go away, Shiota-sensei!” Hachirou repeats, even more irritated than before.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” he says, slamming the window shut. He turns Fumiko’s way with a cheeky smile. “I can see I’m clearly not wanted out there.”

She gives an apathetic shrug.

And that’s how things always are when it comes to Fumiko. At least, when it’s him talking. She has found her place in his classroom. He knows that for certain. She gossips with Riko before class starts and was content enough with having Kanon as her partner for her most recent English assignment. Then, each day after school she excitedly meets up with Makoto and Kiyoshi and discusses what they’re going to do after Makoto finishes up his lessons.

It’s more than that she  _ tolerates _ the two of them. She genuinely seems to enjoy being around them, and that’s a relief considering how worried Nagisa had been about her making friends at the start of the year.

But… He hasn’t managed to get through to her the same way. Not yet. Not like Makoto has. 

...Not like Korosensei can.

She makes it very clear that she doesn’t trust him. The moment he draws near her posture turns tense. Her words are cold and her eyes are skeptical. She clams up, falls silent, and sends a glare his way.

He can’t exactly blame her. He’s met her parents, after all. It’s no wonder she doesn’t trust adults. But he wants to show her that he’s different. Because while Makoto and Kiyoshi are great, they’re still just kids. They can’t help with her situation. 

“Hot out today, isn’t it?” he says, taking a swig of water. “It almost feels kind of nice to stay in here where it’s air-conditioned.” 

Fumiko gives another shrug, but her gaze never once drifts from the window.

Nagisa frowns. “...Listen, Fumiko,” he says. “I’ve been thinking. Are you  _ sure  _ you don’t want to participate?”

Now that rips her gaze away from the window. She stares at him with wide eyes. “Of- Of course I am!” she snaps, huffing and awkwardly averting her gaze.

...She doesn’t dare look out the window again. Instead, she keeps her eyes firmly fixed on the floor, a firm frown planted on her face.

“...‘m not interested in such barbaric nonsense.”

Nagisa knows that’s not true. The way she seems to curl up in on herself, pulling her legs close to her chair… He knows that look clear as day. She’s just scared. Of what her parents would think if they found out. Of what they’d do to her. 

The thought makes him feel a little ill.

It’s not that she just stops looking out the window. She’s careful to avoid it. She looks everywhere  _ but.  _ As if she’s afraid if Nagisa catches her daring to hope he’ll chew her out, too. And so she deliberately averts her gaze. Her eyes drifting from the floor, to the science beakers at the back. Up towards the ceiling, past her unnervingly steady hands, and towards the snake in the corner of the room.

She peers at Mary for one precarious moment, then quickly averts her gaze from her as well.

“I’ve had her longer than I’ve run this school, y’know.” 

Fumiko’s head raises, just barely. “What?”

“Mary. The snake. I got her right after I got out of high school.”

Fumiko looks his way. She’s quiet, but she speaks.  “...Really?”

“Yep!”

She had been his first independent decision once he’d been free of his mom. At the time he’d lived in an apartment alone seeing as how Gakushuu and Karma were still living with their parents. It had gotten a bit lonely and he’d decided to get a pet. He’d never had one growing up. Initially, he’d leaned towards something more stereotypical like a cat or even a rabbit, but when he’d laid his eyes on the snake in the animal shelter he’d decided in an instant she was too strange to pass up.

They were misfits, she and he. Maybe a little bit scary. Maybe a little bit offputting. And maybe a bit lonely.

Karma had just about had a heart attack when he heard what Nagisa’d decided on. 

_ “I am never coming over to your apartment!”  _

(A hard promise to keep considering the fact that they were literally dating and also teenagers. Needless to say, Karma sucked it up sooner rather than later.)

“I’ve had her for…” Nagisa quietly counts on his fingers, feeling awfully embarrassed considering he’s supposed to be the educator here. “...Eleven years, now.”

Fumiko blinks, clearly intimidated by the fact that the snake is almost as old as she is. “And the school’s only been open three, correct?”

“Mmm,” Nagisa replies. “Before that, I taught at another school for four or five years, but I wasn’t allowed to take Mary into class there. Something-something ‘They didn’t want to worry about a pest problem.’”

A bullshit notion considering Paradise already had a pretty bad mice issue and, y’know, the fact that  _ Mary could have taken care of that! _

Fumiko snorts. “So the moment you got free reign you just decided to turn your personal school into a zoo?”

Nagisa pouts but doesn’t complain. He’s just glad to have her talking at all. “Hey! It’s not  _ that  _ much,” he refutes. “Just Mary, Korokohai, and the ladies.” 

“Th… The ladies?”

“Er- The rats. I’m talking about the rats.” 

He’d nearly forgotten that most people were not aware of the fact that he, Karma and Kayano had taken to calling them ‘the ladies,’ ‘the lasses,’ or any similarly pretentious high-standing title as an inside joke. Needless to say, Gakushuu firmly refuses to participate.

Fumiko’s lip curls with disgust. “Ew.”

“I, for one, think they’re lovely. They’re actually very clean animals, believe it or not. They clean themselves several times a day.” 

Fumiko seems no less unimpressed. “Still ew,” she decidedly comments.

“Let’s agree to disagree,” he says, not in the mood to argue with a literal child. “I actually didn’t intend to get so many animals in here. The girls were supposed to be the only class pets. But then we got Korokohai as a gift from a friend of mine, and Karma demanded Mary finally get out of the house.”

Fumiko snorts. “Why am I not surprised Akabane-san is afraid of reptiles?”

“You’re not?” Nagisa asks.

“Of course not!” Fumiko huffs. “They’re simply mere animals.”

“You wanna try holding her, then?”

Fumiko does a double-take.  _ “What!?” _

“She’s super gentle,” he reassures. “Loves to cuddle. I let kids hold her all the time. But no-one this year has really voiced interest yet.” He smiles. “You wanna be the first?”

Fumiko hesitates.

It’s not that he’s trying to call her out on her bluff. Namely because he doesn’t even believe it’s a bluff. He saw the way she was looking at Mary. She’s not scared of her. She’s impressed by her. He wants to give her an experience she can call her own, and there’s nothing Fumiko likes if not “first.”

“I…” Fumiko starts, but quickly drifts off.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he reassures. “But you told me you didn’t want to participate in Assassination because your parents asked you not to, right?” ‘Demanded you not to at the risk of verbal abuse’ sounds a little too harsh for his taste. “They didn’t say anything about the snake, though, did they?”

“No…” Fumiko admits. “They didn’t know about the snake.”

“And they don’t need to.”

Fumiko’s mouth falls open. She gives Nagisa a skeptical look. She glances out the window, then back his way.

Still frowning, she says, so quietly, as if she’s hoping he won’t hear her:  _ “I’d like that.” _

Nagisa smiles and stands. “Alright, then!” he says, making his way over to Mary’s terrarium. “You can tell me if you want her off anytime,” he reassures, gently picking Mary up. He returns to Fumiko’s side and carefully places Mary’s head across her shoulders. Fumiko reaches to cradle her massive lower half in her arms, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Mary quickly settles down on Fumiko, her tongue curiously flicking in and out.

“I think she likes you!” Nagisa says.

Fumiko blinks. “...Really?”

“Yeah! Look at how calm she is,” he says. “She must feel really comfortable around you.”

It’s an embellishment. Mary is the chillest snake he knows. (And the only snake he knows, for that matter.) She’s comfortable around most anyone. That said, however, she’s made herself at home on Fumiko, and there’s no harm in pointing that out.

Fumiko cracks the tiniest smile. “...Neat,” she admits, carefully pulling the snake closer to her.

“You’re good with animals,” Nagisa says. “Have you ever had a pet?”

Fumiko's quiet. “No, not particularly,” she admits. “I don’t like animals,” she pauses. “All they do is excrete and whine and bite. Plus, it simply strikes me as the sign of a deeply insecure person to need an animal’s mindless love to reassure them.” 

Nagisa snorts. “Gee! Thanks!”

Fumiko jolts and shakes her head. “Oh! Not _ you _ Shiota-sensei. I mean, like, dog people.”

“I’ll make sure to pass that one onto Kiyoshi.”

Fumiko gives him a startled look. But any sign of apprehension quickly fades. “I’ll tell Kiyoshi that my damn self.”

“Please do not, actually,” Nagisa has to beg. The kid has enough self-esteem issues as is.

Fumiko snorts but doesn’t reply, shuffling closer to her chair with a meticulous precision. She looks Nagisa’s way. “Will she mind if I sit down?” she asks.

“Not at all. Just be careful,” he replies.

Fumiko cautiously maneuvers into her chair, mindful not to bump Mary against the desk. She keeps her cradled in her arms, even as she scoots herself in. And then gives her a firm pat on the back just for good measure.

“I didn’t know Kiyoshi had a dog,” she admits.

“You didn’t?” Nagisa asks, raising an eyebrow. Taro’s practically his support blanket. If he’s remembering correctly, Kiyoshi’s had him since he was, like, three. He’s surprised the Samoyed hasn’t come up.

“Kiyoshi doesn’t talk about himself a lot.”

_ Ah. _

“Well, that’s where you can step in. Kiyoshi is… Very shy.”

“I’d noted that much. I’m not daft, Shiota-sensei.”

“Of course not!” Nagisa reassures. “But he’s been like this all his life. And I think it would mean a lot to him if you asked him about his experiences or thoughts on something sometime. He has a bad habit of letting himself get talked over.”

Fumiko blinks, but sternly nods. “Of course. I’ll keep that in mind,” she says, continuing to pet the snake. “...She doesn’t feel like I expected her to,” she comments.

“What were you thinking?” Nagisa curiously asks.

“Slimy or something.”

“Nah. That’s a common misconception. Though a lot of snakes like to swim, they’re not amphibians.”

“She doesn’t bite, either.”

“Course not,” Nagisa says, giving Mary a firm pat of his own. “She’s my gentle giant. Never bitten a soul.” The closest she’s gotten is rearing up at Karma, but who _ hasn’t _ reared up at Karma before?

It’s about now that Mary gives a massive yawn. Fumiko jolts, pulling away, just a little.

“W-What is she doing?” she asks.

“Oh, she’s just tired,” Nagisa snarks. Fumiko gives him a skeptical look, and he decides to cut the crap. “Nah, I’m just kidding. When snakes yawn they’re actually just getting a reading on their environment. Chemical reactions and such.”

Fumiko’s posture relaxes. “Oh,” she says. “...Cool.” Her smile widens, and she contentedly strokes the snake’s head.

Nagisa can’t help but feel relieved. She finally, finally seems comfortable around him. Who knew all it would take is Mary feeling comfortable around  _ her? _ It feels nice to see Fumiko grin after everything he’s seen. And as stilted as their conversation is, at least it’s a conversation.

But he can’t help but feel like he’s forgetting something.

“I heard you’ve been letting Makoto co-”

**_THE OTHER STUDENTS!_ **

He hasn’t been watching them for ten minutes now! He’d gotten completely distracted with the whole snake thing!

He scrambles to the window in a panic, tearing it down and thrusting his head outside.

What he finds is far from disaster.

The kids have kept themselves mostly under wraps. Haruhi and Aina appear to have gotten into a little bit of a fight, but Makoto stands between them, desperately trying to play the mediator.

...And succeeding.

Nagisa watches him slowly tear the two of them apart and calm them down. (With some help from Kiyoshi, of course.) He listens to both sides of the argument, then settles the score and sends them on their way.

Nagisa doesn’t even realize he’s staring until Fumiko impatiently taps his shoulder.

“Ah, sorry…” he says. “I… Realized I hadn’t been watching them.”

“I had noticed,” Fumiko says. “But I wouldn’t worry if I were you. They’re not toddlers. They can take care of themselves. No need to be overbearing.”

Nagisa slowly nods. “Of... Course,” he says, pulling down the window. And Fumiko’s right. He watches Makoto return to his spar with Kiyoshi. And spots him sport a wicked grin as he starts to rough him up. But just when things seem to maybe be going a little too far and he trips Kiyoshi just to get a hit in on him, he helps him back to his feet and gives him an excited slap on the back.

Nagisa can’t hear what he’s saying, but it’s hard to imagine it’s anything  _ but  _ pointers on his assassination techniques. 

...It really does seem just like the old times

_ Wait - Speaking of Makoto -  _

“So what were you saying? About Makoto?” Nagisa asks.

Fumiko’s quiet for a moment, her forehead scrunching as she attempts to remember. “Oh, yeah-” She says. “Is it true you’re letting him stay over at your place?”

Nagisa nods. “I take it he’s been bragging about it?” he asks with a chuckle. “We’ve been letting him stay over after school after some stuff came up. Don’t worry. He’s not, like, inviting himself in.”

Fumiko’s quiet.

“...You know,” Nagisa admits. “If you’d ever want to come over, you’re always welcome.”

Fumiko frowns. Deeply. “I’d hate to be a bother,” she says, clasping her hands tight.

“Fumiko, you’d never be a bother,” he reassures, placing a hand on her shoulder. But she quickly pulls away, giving him an icy glance.

“I don’t have the time-” she says. “I’m a very busy woman.”

_ So he’s heard. _

“Well, if you’re ever free, I’m sure my wife and husband would be delighted to meet you.” Barring Karma, who’d already heatedly debated economics with her.

Fumiko gives a stilted nod, but no response.

The room returns to an awkward silence, and he suddenly feels he’s taken a thousand steps back. He hadn’t even said much! But talking to Fumiko is like walking on eggshells. One wrong move and she’s back to hiding inside her shell. It’s almost like the snake conversation had never happened at a-

Wait! Where’s the snake!?

For the second time in the past three consecutive minutes, Nagisa sends a panicked glance over his shoulder and does a fucking U-Turn. This time Fumiko stops him and grabs him by the sleeve of his shirt before he can make a mad dash across the room.

“I returned her to her terrarium,” she explains, pointing across the room. And indeed, a quick lookover of her tank confirms that. Nagisa nods, returns to his spot, and tries to shake the embarrassment of being stopped in his tracks by a thirteen-year-old girl.

She’s returned to staring out the window. She doesn’t seem to notice it, but step by step she inches closer, til’ she’s practically pressing her hands against the glass. She watches Makoto spar, too.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Nagisa asks.

“They look like they’re having a good time,” Fumiko simply comments.

She doesn’t seem to notice her lip quiver, either.

“Listen. Fumiko. Are you sure you don’t want to partic-”

_ “Of course I am,”  _ she interrupts, tearing her gaze away from the glass. She steps back once, then twice, clenching her fist and blinking fast. “I don’t want part in your dumb game or to be invited to your stupid house. Holding a snake is cool and all, but I’m not stupid. I don’t need your handouts or your pity. I’m sorry I’m so dumb and obvious and needy about how much I want to live like they do, but I  _ can’t _ . So just. Stop.”

It’s Nagisa’s turn to step back. He frowns, falls silent, and sends her a sympathetic glance. “...Fumiko…” he says quietly. “You are  _ not  _ dumb, obvious, or needy.” His gut instinct is telling him to place a hand on her shoulder, but he quickly decides against it. She clearly doesn’t like to be touched. He doesn’t know where to begin to unravel all that, but… “You just want to spend time with your friends. There’s nothing wrong with that,” is a decent place to start.

“I’m not  _ entitled to that. _ I’m not even supposed to be friends with people like them in the first place,” Fumiko grumbles, avoiding his gaze and staring at the floor.

‘People like them’

“...What’s wrong with Kiyoshi and Makoto?”

Fumiko flinches and shakes her head. “No, no…” she says. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispers, voice cracking.

Nagisa frowns. Walks across the room and pats a chair. “Fumiko, I think you should sit down.” 

“...What about the cl-”

“You told me yourself. They’ll be fine.” She’s what he needs to worry about right now.

Fumiko hesitates, but slowly approaches. She pulls herself into her seat and gives him a wounded look. 

He slides in next to her. “...Fumiko, I’m sorry if it seems like I’m patronizing you. But I’m not trying to give you handouts. I’m genuinely worried about you,” he admits. “I know it’s hard for a teacher to seem genuine. I  _ know  _ there’s no reason for me to be involved in your life. And I know it’s easy to believe I don’t really care. That I’m just… Just trying to feel like a hero. Trying to… Help the troubled, needy kids and go to bed feeling good about myself at night. I know. More than anything.”

It’s part of the reason he and his classmates had never respected Yukimura-sensei. Certain teachers come across with a saccharine politeness, and it’s easy to believe that means they’re simply running on a script. How could a stranger care about their lives  _ so much _ when they couldn’t even care about their own? In a world where all they’d ever been afforded was pity or scorn, it felt fake. It felt stilted. And Korosensei had felt the same until he’d met them on the battlefield. 

_ That’s  _ what Nagisa is trying to capture when it comes to his own students… Meet them on a ground where they’re complete equals. But Fumiko isn’t privy to that right...

“But I’d never lie to you about that. I care.”

_ “Why?” _ Fumiko groans.

“Because I didn’t grow up with a very happy family, either,” Nagisa admits. “And… I know what you’re feeling. When… When you live like that, it’s hard to believe anyone would ever go out of their way to protect you. But I don’t pity you, Fumiko. I respect you. And I want to help you. Because that’s what Korosensei did for me. And with the power of hindsight, I know I needed that.” He pauses. “...I needed that a lot.”

Fumiko’s quiet. “Mmmm…” she admits, anxiously fiddling with her hands.

“There is  _ nothing _ wrong with you, Fumiko. I want you to know that. I met your parents on Friday. And… They wanted to hear a lot of bad things about you.”

“I bet you had a lot of bad things to say,” she snaps, pulling her legs up by her chest.

“No, I didn’t. You want honesty? I’ll give you honesty. At first, yeah, I was intimidated to have you in my class. You were antisocial, rude, and a bully. You snarked me on the first day and the voice in the back of my mind went ‘what am I going to do about her?’”

Fumiko’s lip twitches. “Exactly.”

“But that was months ago. I hadn’t gotten to know you. Since then you’ve become a bright, wonderful person. You might not give yourself credit for it, but you have a _ big heart. _ I don’t care what your parents think. You’re a delight to have in class. I  _ want  _ you to be here. I want you to be happy. And I don’t have any reason to lie to you. I want to be here for you. And not just because it’s my job.”

Fumiko turns her head away, quickly rubbing at her eyes. 

“Your parents… They seemed like they wanted a reason to be mad at you. And… That’s not okay. I’m not sure if anyone has ever said this to you: But that’s not okay.”

Fumiko gives another apathetic shrug, staunchly refusing to look his way. Takes a deep breath in and wipes at her face once more.

“...They just have my best interests in mind. They want me to grow up into someone respectable...”

“Am I not respectable?”

“Pardon?"

“Your parents didn’t seem awfully fond of me. I’m not living a life they exactly approve of.” And… He’s not living a life his parents would exactly approve of, either. “...But I’d still say I’m pretty cool. Wouldn’t you?”

Fumiko gives a silent shrug.

“Oh, gee. Thanks. I must be  _ real _ lame.”

“You know what I mean,” Fumiko mumbles. “...It’s just, you’re not me. And… I just want to make them happy.”

“Which is… Important,” Nagisa admits. “That’s very noble of you. But making you happy should always come first. I want to help you remember that. Because that’s what I needed to remember when I was your age.”

“Mmm…” 

“Listen. Thank you for opening up to me Fumiko. I promise I’m not looking down on you. And I’ll try to be more considerate of you feeling that way in the future. Alright?”

“‘...lright.” She pauses. She still looks like she’s trying to make herself so, so small. She hesitantly looks his way, eyes watery, and mumbles something he can’t make out.

“...What?”

She blinks, steels herself, and repeats just barely above a whisper “...Shiota-sensei, you won’t tell my parents we had this conversation, right?”

“Of- Of course not!” Nagisa sputters. After  _ everything  _ he just said, he would never sell her out like that. He can’t exactly call her fears unfounded, though. He gets it. He knows what that’s like. When you live like she does, everything feels like a trap. Like each moment of trust - Each moment you dare to show an ounce of vulnerability -  You’re lured into getting in trouble. Being punished for being open. Being punished for daring to feel. Because that’s what his mom did to him, and that’s what her parents do to her.

...It’s hard to trust saccharinely sweet people for more reasons than one.

But he’s not luring her into a trap. Not all kindness has a starving wolf looming behind. He knows that now. He’s learned, with time. She hasn’t, though. And he knows what it’s like to be in her shoes.

“I won’t say anything to them,” he reassures. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He pauses. “I…  Know it’s hard to believe, but I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Fumiko gives another tiny nod. Her eyes drift back to the window, and she pulls her legs close to her body. “...Can I admit one more thing?”

“Of course,” Nagisa says.

“I think I… Dowanttopartcipate,” she murmurs. “Everyone looks like they’re having so much fun. I want to be a part of that. I want to know what that feels like.”

Nagisa’s quiet. Because this will certainly be a difficult situation to figure out. The hardest problems don’t have easy solutions, and he’s going to need to try everything he can.

“Alright!” he declares, holding a hand out. “We’ll find a way to work things out, then. No matter what."

He can't help but crack a grin. As a teacher, the difficult questions are sometimes the most important of all.

And with his own grin a familiar and equally as ecstatic one pierces his mind. When it comes to... Hard questions like these, oftentimes Nagisa finds himself circling back around to one inquiry time and time again. The most simple, and most complicated question of all:

'What would Korosensei do?'

He reflects on coming to his Sensei with the bribe his mom had handed him. Asking Korosensei what to do... Meeting his eyes... And arranging a meeting with his mother.

"...First... I will try to get through to them one more time. I’ll schedule a meeting with your parents-”

“Absolutely not,” Fumiko interrupts, shoulders tense.

Okay. Okay.  _ Maybe  _ he’d worded that wrong!

“I just want to try to talk to them one more time. Together. And only about assassination.” Because… If he doesn’t try, he’ll never forgive himself. He's following in Korosensei's footsteps, after all. And... He he has to believe it's worth a shot to improve her home life too. He doesn’t want her to find a safe haven here, only to return to torment each night. That’s not protecting her! That’s the easy way out. “I won’t breathe a word of  _ any of this  _ to them. I promised, remember?”

Fumiko frowns.

“This will be my idea,” Nagisa continues. “You don’t have to take my side. In fact, I don’t want you to. Please don’t make yourself feel unsafe for my sake. It’ll all be me, the defiant teacher. Let it be me they’re mad at, but let me talk to them. Just one more time.”

“...And if it doesn’t work?” Fumiko pauses. “Because it won’t. I know them.”

“Then we’ll find another way. I promise.” 

Hell, an idea or ten is already concocting in his brain…

Finally, Fumiko gives a tiny nod. Reaches out, and gives his hand a firm shake. “Fine,” she admits. “...I’m well aware you won’t take no for an answer. And although I’m most certain they’ll prove you wrong, I… Would like to see you try.”

Nagisa smiles. “It’s a deal, then. Let’s meet up for brunch over the weekend. I can try to get through to them. If I can’t, then we’ll work on finding a more sneaky workaround. And until then, you and me can chat during PE. ‘Kay?”

“...’kay.”

“And for the record? I’d love to see you prove me wrong.” Nagisa pauses. “About - Uh - Your opinion. I mean - I’d love to validate your opinion. Not confirm that your parents suck. It sucks that your parents suck. I just want you to know that your opinion is value- Shit! I worded that poorly.”

Fumiko snorts. “It’s fine. I’ve come to expect that of you at this point.”

“Hey!”

Fumiko gives a wicked grin and turns her back. “It’s a plan, though I fear how you plan to make it go off without a hitch seeing as how you can barely gather your words in the first place.” She smugly chides. “In the meantime, however, it’s probably best you call your class in, Mister Teacher. PE ended ten minutes ago.”

_ Shit! _

Nagisa hurries to his feet, checking his watch and scrambling over to the window once more. “Ah! Sorry! I should really deal with that!”

Fumiko snorts. “It’s fine. I’m the one giving you pointers," She snarks. “...Thanks for talking, Shiota-sensei.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Nagisa replies. “Thank me when I manage to help. Because until then, my word is as good as nothing.”

“I’m not sure I’d-” Fumiko shakes her head. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

Nagisa pulls down the window and peeks his head outside. “Time to come in everyone!” He shouts. “Put your knives away and tally your kill counts!” He instructs, completely oblivious to how fucking insane that sentence is to say to middle schoolers.

There’s some brief complaining, but one by one the class begins to herd themselves inside. Nagisa and Fumiko return to the main classroom, sending one last thankful glance at Mary as they pass by.

As the class returns, Fumiko slowly drifts from Nagisa’s side. She returns to her friends, regrouping as they excitedly explain which stunts they pulled today. She nods and grins as Nagisa can only imagine she anticipates getting to join them before she even knows it.

He heads to his desk and begins to grab his papers for their next lesson. Holds a finger up and thanks them for his patience as he shuffles through math worksheets. The class chitter-chatters as school returns to normal.

And just barely, he swears he overhears Fumiko ask Kiyoshi about his dog.

Nagisa gives a content smile.

...She’s on the right track.

 

* * *

That Saturday he wakes up bright and early. Over the week he discusses with the Hisakawas about the idea of meeting up to further discuss Fumiko’s progress, and they reluctantly agree. They decide to meet up at 10, which in Nagisa’s opinion is far too early to even be considered ‘brunch,’ but decides to let it slide seeing as how he’s asking enough of these people as is.

As such, he gets up at seven. He eats a small breakfast, but decides to hold off for the most part to save his appetite for the meetup. He sees Karma and Gakushuu out of the house, kisses their cheek at the door, and prepares to do the same for Kayano until she gets the abrupt call that her shoot has been canceled. Something about her co-star feeling unwell.

He showers, combs his hair, and gets dressed. He briefly considers leaving the tie home today, but quickly decides against it. It may be a tattered hand me down, but it gives him strength. He needs to remember why he’s doing this in the first place.

He tidies himself up in front of the mirror and goes over what he’s going to say. Repeats it once, then repeats it once more. Shifts his tone just barely, then decides to scrap the whole thing. Should he be passive or aggressive? He certainly doesn’t want to come off as too accusatory regarding their parenting, but he can’t let himself get walked all over, either. Should he use a big vocabulary or keep it simple? Should he begin his argument with talk of assassination or talk of self-esteem? Is it even an argument? Well, no. It’s not an argument. It FEELS like an argument, but he doesn’t want it to be an argument. If it feels like an argument to the Hisakawas, he’s already lost.

Needless to say, he’s been overthinking it all night.

…

...Well, all week.

Can you blame him, though!? A whole lot is resting on his shoulders over this. And if he screws it up, Fumiko could take the fall! In fact, he’s quite tempted to cancel on the spot and call the whole thing off right this moment, except he can’t because it’s already 9AM and also he made an anxious child agree to this meeting in the first place so if he backs down now it would be a stab to the back.

Christ, this is hard.

He’s not even sure if Fumiko will  _ be _ there. He’d requested she come because he’d been curious to see how her parents act around her, but he’s very quickly starting to wonder if that was a bad call, too. He really should have thought this through more.

He thinks, having thought this through for a week.

And, as such, he finds himself shell-shocked in front of the mirror, conversing with himself like some sort of bad improv-actor. He’s thought about what to say, and he’s mulled over every possible angle he could take to convince them of his point. But what if it’s not enough? Maybe he should have just lied to them. 

God, no! He’s a teacher, he really needs to set a better precedent!

How on earth had he managed to appear so confident about this idea in front of Fumiko? Well, it had  _ sounded _ like a good idea, but now that it’s approaching it seems… Bad. This is bad. ‘But don’t call it  _ bad, _ Nagisa! You’re just doing what Korosensei would do.’ he duly reminds himself. That’s where he’d gotten inspiration for this whole contrived meeting, right? Now he’s gotta wonder if Korosensei ever rehearsed talking to batshit parents in front of the mirror.

_ ‘Sorry, Nagisa!’  _ says the Korosensei in his mind’s eye, rapidly pacing back and forth at a speed faster than fathomable. _ ‘I’m just terrified of your psycho mom and need to find a way to talk her down so she doesn’t beat your ass after I talk to her! Fun stuff!’  _ as he flips through note cards or whatever.

...Admittedly, he snorts at the thought.

‘No, no’ he reminds himself. Korosensei respected his mom. He wouldn’t have called her a  _ psycho. _

And he respects the Hisakawas! He just… Doesn’t… Like… Them…

He shakes his head, deciding he’s moved onto completely irrelevant nonsense and needs to get out of his own head before he up and misses the ‘brunch’ entirely. He straightens his tie one more time for good measure and peeks his head into the living room.

Kayano waves him over. “Looking handsome,” she says. “You feeling ready?”

“Absolutely not,” he admits, giving a half-cheeky half-nervous smile as he takes a seat next to her. “These people are going to be a piece of work.”

“So I’ve heard,” Kayano replies, frowning. “You’re gonna do great, though. You’ve just gotta stay focused.”

“Step one failed,” Nagisa jokes in response. Admittedly he’s being a tad (Okay. A lot) self-deprecating, but seeing Kayano chuckle in response makes him feel a bit better. When it comes to… Situations like this, it’s hard not to feel teamed up against. But he’s never fighting alone. He needs to remember th-

_...Wait. Actually… _

“You wanna come with?” he asks. “You’re - Uh - Better at gathering your thoughts than I am, and I… Really don’t want to do this alone. Half convinced I’m gonna snap and punch these people out if I go about this wrong.”

“Like you could punch someone out,” Kayano sneers, rolling her eyes. “Sure, though. I sorta wanna see this for myself, and the last thing I need you doing is trying to punch out someone you most definitely are not capable of punching out.”

“Gee, thanks.” Nagisa sarcastically replies. “Actually, thanks, too, though. I really appreciate that--”

“No prob. I’m gonna need some time to get ready though. Is that fine?”

“Yeah. That’s fine. We’ve got time.”

“Maybe we can grab ice cream on the way back,” Kayano says, standing. “It’d be a nice surprise for the others.”

_ “Pretty _ sure it’d be melted by the time they got home.”

“We have a fridge for a reason, smartass.”

“When Gakushuu’s willing to accept refrozen ice cream, give me a call, because hell has, uh - Also frozen over. Refrozen over.”

“And Karma?”

“Pretty sure Karma would eat a Hot Pocket he found in the garbage can.”

Kayano chuckles. “Fine, then. It can be our little treat. Just for us.”

“Sounds good to me,” Nagisa admits. “God knows I’m gonna need a destresser after this, and if we get ice cream for the other two we’re never gonna hear the end of Gakushuu’s ‘I really shouldn’t be doing this.’ ‘I’m getting fat, you know.’”

“Like hell he is. His metabolism is _ inhuman.” _

“I know, right!? He’s insane!”

With their little plan tossed together, Nagisa feels marginally better. Kayano runs into the bedroom and switches out of her decidedly unprofessional and glaringly novelty ‘kitten with a flamethrower’ pajamas, then they’re out of the house by 9:30.

They arrive at the restaurant just before ten. And find themselves in awe of the place. When the Hisakawas had suggested the meetup location Nagisa had been hesitant to argue with them seeing how much he was asking of them as is. But stepping into the restaurant, he can’t help but exchange a baffled stare with Kayano.

A nigh-romantic overhead lighting illuminates the restaurant. Each carefully crafted wooden table already has chalices and silverware precisely organized sat in front of each stylish leather seat. A massive mirror hangs over a crackling fireplace, and intricate bookshelves line the walls.

This is a fucking  _ breakfast place! _ It’s the equivalent of a WAFFLE HOUSE. Why does it feel like he’s entering the fucking Smithsonian!?

A waiter asks them if they have a reservation (Reservation!? This may as well be an IHop!) and they confirm they’re meeting up with the Hisakawas. They’re led over to a massive table near the back, where the Hisakawas have already been seated. And in between them sits the one and only Fumiko, a deeply uncomfortable look on her face.

She perks up, however, upon seeing them. Nagisa gives her a tiny wave and a reassuring smile as he slides into his seat.

The Hisakawas are staring. It takes him a moment to even realize why.

“Ah- Sorry,” he says as Kayano takes a seat next to him. “Hope you don’t mind me inviting my wife. Her schedule cleared up last minute today, and I figured ‘the more the merrier!’”

Okay, so it’s less ‘the more the merrier,’ and more ‘you people scare the shit out of me and I thought she’d make an excellent security blanket,’ alongside a dash of ‘I’m getting the vibe you really don’t respect me and thought maybe if I brought my celebrity wife you’d briefly consider my Totally Heterosexual Monogamous Rich People Opinions and stop abusing your daughter.’

He doesn’t say that. The more the merrier works.

“Of course not,” Mr. Hisakawa says. 

Kayano holds a hand out. “I’m Akari. Akari Yukimura,” she says with a smile. “You can call me Kayan-”

“We know you,” Mrs. Hisakawa interrupts. “Mase Haruana, yes?”

Kayano nods, awkwardly withdrawing her hand. “That would be me, yes.”

Fumiko hasn’t spoken. Until now she’s been staring down at the table, not daring to look Nagisa’s way. Upon Kayano’s introduction, she briefly looks up and sends a nervous glance, but says nothing else.

Kayano gives her an awkward smile. “And it’s wonderful to meet you as well, Miss Fumiko.”

Fumiko gives a stilted, almost-rehearsed nod. “You too,” she says quietly. She still refuses to make direct eye contact, sending one nervous glance her father’s way, then another towards her mother.

If they notice, they certainly don’t show it. They continue with their faux routine, exchanging further formalities with Nagisa and Kayano before ever-so-fancifully ordering their meals. They go about as normal, pretending their daughter isn’t having an anxiety attack stuck in between them.

Nagisa and Kayano order their own meals, glaringly incapable of pretending nothing is wrong. He notices the disapproving way the Hisakawas stare at his nervous smile. And although Kayano, known actress, is much more adept at hiding her distaste, he catches her nervous tics such as scratching at the back of her neck.

When the waiter brings the menu over, Nagisa comes to the acute realization that literally everything here has an exorbitant price. He briefly considers losing his mind over just how much money he’s wasting on a fucking pancake, but tries to remind himself that his wife is working on a blockbuster film about a hobo god and his husband is Bill Gates’ biggest rival. He can splurge once in a while and probably still be fine.

He and Kayano decide to split a plate of pancakes. The last thing they need is to appear greedy in front of these people. Plus, the platter is massive, and it’s pretty evident they both have their ice cream plan in mind for after this.

“Syrup and whipped cream,” Kayano decides. “Lots of syrup and whipped cream.”

He’s not nearly as big on sweets as she is, but seeing as how she’d decided to accompany him to confront these fucking sociopaths he’ll let her treat herself. 

He nods. “As much syrup and whipped cream as you can put on it.”

To say what the Hisakawas order is extravagant is an understatement. He quickly loses track of what belongs to who, but in between them there’s a platter of fried egg, an omelette, a full ass ham, thirteen pieces of bacon, half of a waffle, a bowl of cantaloupe, and a plate of french toast. 

Before Nagisa knows it their meals are ready, and watching the waiter pile plate after plate onto the Hisakawas’ side of the table is… A sight to behold.

It’s as they begin to hesitantly dig into their own meals that he reminds them what they’re actually here to discuss.

“So. Let’s talk about Fumiko’s progress,” he says, cutting the pancake in half and sliding it towards Kayano’s side of the plate. 

Fumiko avoids eye contact again. Where she’d started to dare to look Kayano and Nagisa’s way, she quickly shies back. Keeping her hands close to her lap, she shuffles uncomfortably and gulps.

Nagisa feels a knot in his own stomach. This was a bad, bad idea. What was he  _ thinking!? _

“About time,” Mr. Hisakawa says. “I thought you’d never breach the subject. In fact, I was beginning to lose my patience.” He frowns. “But what about it? I’m still perplexed as to why you’ve called us to have this meeting. Especially after so recently we took time out of our busy schedules to meet up with you in class. You said you had no concerns about our girl, yes? So what bothers you now. Don’t tell me you lied to save face.”

Nagisa slowly blinks. Places his fork on his plate, and sends an aside glance to Kayano. She’s managed to keep that collected smile, but Nagisa has an acute feeling she wants to ‘light some bitches up.’ He looks back towards the Hisakawas, and tries to gather what words to say in response to such a weighty allegation, especially considering he hardly values their time seeing as how the Karasumas had managed to make time in between ‘defending the fucking country’ and ‘desperately attempting to revitalize their sex lives.’

“Of… Of course not,” he finally says, following in Kayano’s stead and keeping his tone perfectly calm. “I just wish to… Further discuss possibilities as to where we’re heading with Fumiko’s education. We hadn’t managed to find much time to discuss on Friday because of your busy schedules. And I sincerely apologize for that. But I still want to get a more concrete plan worked out, seeing as how you’ve barred her participation in certain activities. Since you’ve picked the time and place, I hope this will be a more acceptable avenue for discussion for you two.”

Mr. Hisakawa slowly nods. “Of course, of course,” he says. But he must be able to tell where Nagisa is heading from a mile away, because he quickly clarifies. “But if you further intend to discuss the concept of our daughter participating in your ‘assassination,’ I’m afraid to inform you that will remain a ‘no.’ I feel we’ve made ourselves quite clear in our decision, and we don’t intend to budge. I sincerely hope you don't intend to further push the subject."

Nagisa bites his lip. It feels like he’s playing four-dimensional chess with all microaggressions he's navigating. “I implore you to just hear me out, Mr. Hisakawa. If I can’t sell you on it after this, I’ll drop it. And that’s a promise. But I need you to keep in mind that you’re isolating your daughter from important activities that are impacting how she does in this school.”

“So she’s performing unsatisfactorily?”

“E-Excuse me?”

“If her performance isn’t adequate...”

Fumiko flinches.

“No! No! That isn’t it at all!” Nagisa shouts. If he’d had any composure before, he’s quickly lost it. He’s gripping the table so tight his hands shake. “Your daughter is… Your daughter is… Wonderful. She hasn’t done anything wrong,” he reassures. “I’m just… I don’t know. But it’s not that she’s fallen behind. So  _ do not _ worry about her progress. I simply… Worry she’s missing out on a valuable experience.”

“And while I appreciate your concern,” Mr. Hisakawa says in a tone that implies he absolutely does not. “I must remind you that Fumiko is _ my _ daughter. The last thing you need to do here is overstep boundaries. I know what’s best for her. Fumiko has had plenty of valuable experiences, and we very well know why we picked your establishment for her education. It was for your exemplary rate of turning around troubled children like her.  _ Not _ for your crude, violent, and quite frankly ludicrous extracurricular activities. That is a decision we made signing up for your program, and it’s one we intend to have you respect. If you’re not capable of that, I’m afraid we’ll have to pull our daughter fro-”

“N-No!” Nagisa shouts again. Half the restaurant is staring at him, but sheer terror fills his gut. “I _assure_ _you_ there’s no need for that. And I apologize for coming off as overbearing. Your daughter thrives in my school’s environment, and I’d hate to take that away from her.”

Fumiko doesn’t just thrive. Fumiko’s finally  _ found herself.  _ The way Fumiko laughs around Kiyoshi and Makoto is something he’d never foreseen of her at the start of the year. She’s found a place where she feels at least relatively safe... Where she can make friends... Where she can take a risk and hold a snake... And where she can take a leap of faith and ask Nagisa to stand up for her.

...A task Nagisa’s failed in.

“And I’m sure that’s true,” Mr. Hisakawa says, notably unimpressed. “But the last thing we need to do while she’s thriving as such is… Encourage her in  _ those _ ways. Fumiko… She…” He pauses. “When you give her an inch, she runs a mile. She’s already incredibly unruly compared to her sisters. You see how being encouraged to attack her teacher could further skew her development, yes?”

“Of… Course,” Nagisa says, having to use all of his restraint to keep himself from explaining that he’s not necessarily encouraging them to  _ attack _ him. Something tells him that wouldn’t exactly help his case.

“Additionally, I can hardly see why you’re so caught up on the idea. Needless to say, Fumiko has no interest in participating in your PE classes, anyways. And she’s told us as such.” He turns Fumiko’s way, and in a tone that just barely masks a threat says “Right, dear?”

“...Y… Yeah.”

Fumiko stares at the floor.

“It’s… Crude. It’s barbaric. And it’s ridiculous,” she recites, her voice tiny, but stern. She refuses to look Nagisa’s way.

Her parents may not notice it, but Nagisa can get a reading on her in an instant. Where she’d seemed shy and nervous before, now she seems ashamed. And Nagisa has a feeling as to why. The way she scoots further away from him… And the stiff way she cuts her toast… She thinks he’s disappointed in her.

And he’s not, dammit! All she’d done was protect herself. And he’d specifically instructed her to prioritize that. But he knows how it feels to have that voice screaming in the back of your head. ‘Hypocrite.’ ‘Liar.’ ‘Traitor.’ And how  _ nothing _ can make it shut up.

...He’d been wrong to put her in this situation in the first place.

His own hand feels stiff as takes a bite of his pancake. Objectively, it’s delicious. Just the right sort of sweet and fluffy. The syrup is suburb, and even the whipped cream is top-notch. All things considered, he should love it. But with the somber atmosphere of the room, it just feels dry.

What had he been  _ thinking? _

...He’d just been trying to follow Korosensei’s example. When his mom had first become an obstacle to him achieving his own autonomy, Korosensei had simply wanted to talk. And talk they had.

But talking hadn’t exactly worked. The first time Korosensei had tried to calmly reason with her, she’d grabbed Nagisa by his hair and pulled him close. Screamed in his face so violently spittle flared at his cheek. She’d called Korosensei a bad influence, and threatened to remove him entirely.

The second talk had ‘worked,’ he supposes. For one _ beautiful _ moment, he’d gotten through to his mother. And she’d allowed him to remain in the E-Class.

But the second talk had also taken place at 3am in the morning after being roofied by his own mother and subsequently tossed a goddamn torch. Sure, he’d managed to talk some sense into his mom, but there were probably some steps that could have been taken there before ‘light up the school’ and ‘stun clap a professional assassin.’

And... That beautiful moment was simply that. A moment. Spring phased into summer... Korosensei’s light faded from betwixt his student’s fingers... And Nagisa’s newfound peace fizzled out just as he’d expected. 

Even if he can manage to talk some sense into Fumiko’s parents, who is he to say it will be any different?

The sheer panic he felt as his mother leaned across the desk and shrieked in Korosensei’s face. How could he forget just how horrible it felt to be in that position? How it had been him, sitting so stiffly, not all that long ago.

More than anything - All he wants to do is reach out to Fumiko and tell her it will be okay. But with Mr. and Mrs. Hisakawa seated at each side, they feel an immeasurable distance away. And so he flounders - Reaching at nothing… Staring at her with apologetic eyes, and hoping that’s enough to not be misconstrued as pity.

They eat in silence.

“Tutoring, then,” Kayano says.

“Huh?” Nagisa asks, slowly raising his head.

“We’ve already dis-”

It’s Kayano’s turn to cut them off. “I’m… Well aware you’ve already discussed the possibility of tutoring with my husband here. He and I talk about these sorts of things,” she explains. “The idea was turned down because Fumiko’s schedule is relatively filled, yes? But hear me out here. Nagisa wishes to further see Fumiko engage herself with her class, and you wish to see her improve in her studies. I think this would be a good place to meet in the middle, if you could possibly look over Fumiko’s schedule and see if she has any days free.”

Mrs. Hisakawa skeptically raises an eyebrow. “I’m just not sure we’d see much benefit from this,” she admits. “Fumiko’s grades have remained rather stagnant as is.”

Nagisa blinks. He… Hadn’t expected this! One minute he’s sulking over the idea of intergenerational trauma, the next his wife is volunteering him to tutor a troubled child without him having any say in the matter. Not that he’d turn this opportunity down! This is just what he’s been looking for! Sure, it had been a mistake to make Fumiko come here, but he sees the way her head perks up at the possibility. Maybe it’s not too late to have some good come out of this after all.

Fleeting or not, a beautiful moment is a beautiful moment. Some good can be found in each horrible situation, and as her teacher, it’s his job to curate that good where the Hisakawas won’t.

“Untrue,” he quickly disagrees. “Fumiko’s grades in Language and Math have raised from D-Averages to C-Averages. And while that may not seem impressive to you, it’s incredible progress for a single trimester. I haven’t been able to dedicate as much attention as I’d have liked to Fumiko due to being occupied with all 24 students. But if I could manage to spend time with her one on one, I  _ guarantee _ we could work on her grades. You  _ did _ say you’d chosen my school because of its track record, yes? Then you must know I have a stellar reputation. I  _ can _ do what you’re asking of me, but I’m going to need your cooperation.”

Mr. Hisakawa pauses. Frowns deeply, and pulls out his phone. He stares at it carefully. “And her behavior?”

“Excuse me?”

“Will you workshop her behavior as well? If you may forgive my unprofessionalism, Shitoa-sensei, you have a bit of a track record of turning around delinquents as well. Before you opened your own school, you worked at Paradise, correct?”

“Er- Yes.”

What is this man on about!? If Fumiko is a  _ delinquent, _ then Nagisa is a fucking  _ terrorist.  _

“You are… The crux of a success story,” Mr. Hisakawa admits. “Turning children around from poor futures to bright ones. That was the second reason we considered your establishment. Because Fumiko does  _ not  _ know how to behave herself. But as of today, I have not seen any particular improvement in her behavior. If we agree to hand our child over to you for hours every week, will we begin to see some change?” He pauses. “What I’m asking, Shiota-sensei, is: ‘Are you capable of disciplining her?’”

“Of- Of course,” he replies before even fully processing what he’s saying. Fumiko flinches. And all Nagisa can do is send her another apologetic glare.

They’re going to need to have a  _ long talk  _ first thing on Monday. Because the person he wants her to think he is and the person he wants her parents to think he is are very quickly becoming apparent as different people.

“...Very well. If you prove yourself capable of ‘shaping her up’ and scolding the girl, we will… Consider it. A… Temporary agreement, if you will. If we see progress, we will continue to allow you to tutor our daughter.”

Nagisa perks up. “Thank you,” he says quietly, trying to avoid the horrified look Fumiko gives him. Shit, man. This is literally the best situation possible for her other than possibly her parents dying in some freak accident, but without her in on the details it just feels awful.

“What days would I be able to keep her?” he asks.

Mr. Hisakawa stares at his phone. Whispers something to Mrs. Hisakawa and mumbles ‘what about her flower arrangements?’ They heatedly (And silently) discuss it over for a few minutes, before returning their attention to Nagisa.

“Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Does until 8 work for you?”

Nagisa’s mouth falls open. “Yes, until 8 works for me!” he exclaims. That is way more than he expected them to give him, so he’ll take it. Time to pull a Fumiko and run a mile where given an inch.

“Excellent, excellent,” Mr. Hisakawa says. “In that case, we only have one more inquiry before we agree to your proposition.”

Mrs. Hisakawa nods. “You… Mentioned another student in tutoring, yes? Will Fumiko be tutored alongside him? If so… This… Is a child who will be a good influence on her, right? What is he like?”

Nagisa blinks, before slowly speaking.

“Makoto is…” He pauses. What can he possibly say? He knows Makoto is the sort of person the Hisakawas would look down on in an instant. And so does Fumiko. But even being as two-faced as he has been this morning, he can’t bring himself to lie about him. Not after everything Makoto - Everything  _ Korosensei  _ \- did for him.

“Makoto is a wonderful person,” he settles on. “He’s… Kind, he’s thoughtful, and he’s a quick learner. Makoto has… So much boundless love in his heart. And I think he… Really cares about your daughter. So, yes, I think he will be a good influence on her.” He pauses. “Well, I know he will.”

Fumiko’s staring at him with an indecipherable look. The Hisakawas, contrarily, seem significantly less impressed.

“And so he’s not… A problem child?” Mrs. Hisakawa whispers.

“Nah,” Nagisa says. “If anything… I’d describe Makoto as the ‘crux of a success story,’ too.”

And as inane as it sounds, he means it.

“Very well, then.” Mr. Hisakawa says, extending his hand. “We shall create this temporary arrangement. You tutor our daughter and show us real, hard, progress. Whether or not you can sincerely impress us is unknown, but you shall have my… Sincerest gratitudes if you turn Fumiko around.”

Nagisa firmly takes his hand, but never once takes his eyes off of Fumiko.

_ It’s not Mr. Hisakawa’s gratitude he wants, after all. _

“It’s a deal, sir.”

The moment he’s released from the handshake, all Nagisa wants to do is wipe his hand on his shirt. But something tells him that’ll sorta disrupt the whole air of ‘shaky agreement’ they’ve found, so he manages to hold off.

The rest of the meal goes by uneventfully. More than anything, Nagisa finds himself lost inside his own mind. Had he seriously succeeded in achieving something? Or, well - Kayano had. He has to thank her later. And speaking of later, he hopes Fumiko won’t worry too much. She knows he wouldn’t hurt her, right?  _ Right? _

The atmosphere around her is just too tense. She keeps to herself. Keeps quiet. Barely eats. Once, she attempts to stealthily dip her french toast into her milk, but Mrs. Hisakawa quickly bats down her hand and reminds her to behave herself.

Soon after, Nagisa excuses himself. Says he thinks it’s time for him and Kayano to be on their way. ‘The day's still young. We have much more to do.’ 

The reality is he can’t bear to keep Fumiko here a single moment more. Now that he and the Hisakawas have reached some kind of agreement, there’s no point in prolonging her discomfort. It had been wrong of him to put her in this situation, even if some good had come out of it. And now that they’ve found that good it’s time to take it and run with it before she starts hyperventilating.

“Already?” The Hisakawas ask. “You’ve hardly finished! At least let the waiters box your meal. These breakfasts are awfully expensive, after all.”

Oh, Nagisa is  _ well aware! _ He’s still pissed about blowing  _ 9,000 yen on a fucking pancake! _

Kayano’s sending their outrageous meal a wistful glance. But the moment she meets Nagisa’s eyes and catches his desperation, she shakes her head and tears her gaze away. “Oh, no, I think we’ll be fine,” she says. “We really gotta get going.” She glances at her phone, and always a master of improv says “Emergency shoot came up. You know how it is. Actress things.”

“Of course, of course,” the Hisakawas say, finally relenting. Nagisa and Kayano quickly grab their stuff, then rise to their feet.

“Thank you for meeting me here today,” Nagisa says.

“You’re welcome,” Mr. Hisakawa replies.

“It was wonderful getting to meet you,” Kayano says, quickly leaning down. “You too, Fumiko. I hope I can be seeing you again in the future sometime!”

Fumiko gives a tiny nod. “You… You too,” she replies, her voice quiet. “I, uh- Likeyourmovies. I...  _ Wasreallyhappytomeetyou,”  _ she shyly admits. 

“You have no idea how much that means to hear,” Kayano says with a grin

“Yeah. See you on Monday, Fumiko,” Nagisa says, giving her a wave. And with that, he’s gone. He and Kayano make their exit from the restaurant.

The  _ moment _ they’re out of there a tension is released. Like... Nagisa sets one foot out of that place, and he realizes he hadn't been breathing that entire time. He turns to Kayano and throws his hands in the air

“Okay, I’m not crazy, right!? I’m not the only one who hated those people, right!?” he asks.

“You are  _ not _ the only person who hated those people,” Kayano agrees.

“Okay, okay, okay. I am so glad. I kept worrying maybe I was just being the judgemental one there,” he rambles as he walks. “But I just kept seeing the way Fumiko looked at them and thought ‘this can’t possibly be just me. These people  _ suck.’” _

“No shit these people suck!”

Nagisa lets out a sigh of relief. Needless to say, after a tense 45 minutes of feigned politeness, being able to tear these people apart feels like total catharsis. The whole time there’d been this voice in the back of his head like ‘Kayano’s NOT gonna agree with you on this. She’s being WAY too polite.’

No, dipshit! She’s just a professional actress! Of course she agrees with you!

“We should get going,” Kayano admits. “The last thing we need is for those people to walk out on us shit-talking them.” She makes a sharp turn to the right and waves for Nagisa to follow. “Ice cream place’s this way.”

Nagisa nods and follows. The catharsis is short-lasting, however, as he remembers Fumiko is still in there with her family. 

“I think I went about this wrong,” he comments as they walk. “I… Don’t know what I thought would happen, but it wasn’t that.”

“Hey,” Kayano reassures. “It wasn’t  _ all _ bad.”

“But I’ve been in this career way too long to think that would just work out. I… Think I betrayed Fumiko’s trust.”

After so long of desperately trying to obtain any shred of it, that stings. He doesn’t want things to go back to how they were before, or god forbid, worse. What had he been thinking?

...About Korosensei. That’s what. And he nearly says it. But he doesn’t. Because… This isn’t his fault. Korosensei hadn’t done anything wrong. He had managed to make things work out, no matter how ridiculous the notion. It’s Nagisa who had screwed up in believing he could set out to accomplish the same miracles that man had.

He settles on, “If it weren’t for you, I don’t think any good would have come out of that.” He pauses. “...Thanks for that. That was quick thinking..”

“No prob,” Kayano says. “But don’t beat yourself up over that, either. There’s a reason you brought me. Hell, that was your idea. So… Think of it as a co-accomplishment. I was just the face.”

“You’re always the face.”

“Yep! But no need to thank me for all the hard work,” Kayano jokes. “Just repay me in the ice cream. Off your paycheck this time.”

“Can do,” Nagisa says with a smile.

“You don’t actually mind tutoring her, right?” Kayano asks. “Like, I know you brought it up to them before, but I know we hadn’t really talked about that. The idea just sort of sprung up, and I had to say something.”

“Of course not!” Nagisa replies. “I’m telling you Kayano: You saved my ass.” Fumiko’s ass, too. But somehow it feels both a little too bleak and a little too optimistic at the same time to say that. “Not sure I’ll only be tutoring her though,” he admits. “I… Think I might let her come over sometimes. With Makoto. Eight is way later than we go, but I didn’t wanna say anything. No use looking a gift horse in the mouth, right? Maybe I can just… Let her come over to our house sometimes. So she can be a normal kid.”

Kayano nods. “Sounds like a plan to me. She seems like a sweet girl.”

“And you’re not just saying that ‘cause she’s your fan?”

“Of course not!” Kayano says through a snicker. “If you’re gonna have two kids rooming in the house, though, you’re gonna have to have a chat with Gakushuu. You know how he is.”

“Are you kidding me?” Nagisa replies. “She uses words like ‘trepidation.’  He’ll love her. They’ll be two peas in a pod.”

Plus, as much as Gakushuu isn’t fond of middle schoolers, he knows it’s for a good cause. Something tells Nagisa the moment he breathes a word of Fumiko’s home situation Gakushuu will be begging to house her.

...He has a good heart.

They make another turn. 

“So, what are you gonna do about assassination?” Kayano asks as they walk.

“Huh?”

“You’re not just giving up on assassination, are you?”

Nagisa shakes his head and quickly clears his thoughts. “Of course not!” he replies. “I promised her this was… Only the first option we’d try. After how poorly that went, I think I owe it to her to come up with a better solution.”

It’s… Hard to be the adult in this situation. And the adult not even in control, no less. When he was a kid doing things his parents never would have approved of, it had been fun and daring. Hell, it had been freeing. In a life where he’d never had control, it had not only been the first time he was unequivocally told he was _ good  _ at something, but the first time when there had been no rules. He so, so desperately wants Fumiko to experience that, too.

But as the adult, encouraging stretching the limits and making decisions for yourself is  _ dangerous _ . Because it’s subsequently encouraging the risk of the word getting out and a child getting harmed. He’s the responsible one. Their protector. And… He wants them to live their best lives, which are ideally full of all sorts of varying, truly unique opportunities. Because that’s important. But keeping them safe should always come first.

...Which… Leads to a conundrum. He has to let her participate, but no doubt in secret. And how exactly can he workshop that one out?

It had been easier for him and his classmates. To hide bruises, scrapes, rifles and blades. Not only had they had the government backing them up on the whole ‘keeping this a federal secret’ thing, but seeing as how they were in the E-Class in the first place, their parents had barely even paid attention to them. Best case scenario their parents were too busy to notice their kid cut themself on a tree branch trying to impale their octopus teacher, worst case scenario they didn’t notice a nasty bruise their child had gotten after tumbling down the hill because they were pretty used to giving their kids bruises themselves.

...But things are different with helicopter parents like the Hisakawas. These aren’t E-Class parents. They’re some grade-A asssholes, and in more ways than one. If they get even the  _ slightest notion _ that Fumiko’s behaving in a way they don’t approve of, they’re gonna spring.

Which leaves him in a dangerous predicament. Caught between having lied to Fumiko about being able to find a way to incorporate her and risking putting her in grave danger.

Now that’s a terrifying thought.

“I dunno. I’m gonna need time to think about it,” he admits. “Anyway, where’s the ice cream place? We’ve been walking a while.”

“It’s the one down by Aisukurīmu Street,” Kayano says. “Bit of a walk, but it’s the best place in town.” She must catch Nagisa’s pout, because she shrugs. “If you wanna halve the distance we could always parkour it,” She jokes.

And. Nagisa. Stops.

It’s been a good fifteen years since he and Kayano have been allowed to ‘parkour’ anything outside of her film sets. But brief joke or not, she’s just given him a brilliant idea.

“Kayano. I have it.”

She quickly slows her pace. “You do?”

“But first I gotta ask…” Nagisa specifies. “How do you feel about helping me lie to adults?”

It’s Kayano’s turn to stop in her tracks. She smirks, turns around, and taps the back of her neck. “Do I even need to answer that?”

“Great,” Nagisa says, returning her grin. “In that case, after ice cream, how about we dig around in our old school stuff? _ Because I think I just found a solution.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12! Ahaha sorry this one is a little later than my updates usually are. Today has been a BUSY day. Stayed up way too late last night watching a friend stream Your Turn To Die (No spoilers or I'll boil you! We're not finished >:( ) and then had to wake up WAY too early today to get my retainer fitted. Fun stuff. But the chapter's finally here now! I know I say this every time, but I did NOT think we'd get this far.
> 
> Welcome to the start of Fumiko's mini arc! I have... A lot of feelings about her, and I hope they've come across in the text. She deserves the opportunities that others have, but that's harder for some people. Writing Nagisa trying to navigate conversations with her parents is both super fun and super exhausting, and I feel I've showcased well how they've shaped her worldview.
> 
> I had fun disclosing Mary "backstory." She's a good snake. Doesn't do much, but I love her. Fun fact: She's named after the character from Kagerou Project! (Fun series! I love it! But I don't recommend it at all) Not in-universe though lmao. The only anime for Nagisa is Sonic Ninja.
> 
> I HAD to include Kayano. I didn't want Nagisa to face this alone, and I figured with her job she'd be the one most likely to be free. I had lots of fun writing their interactions! It's really clear they're just comfortable around each other (All of the quartet is!) and it makes me very happy.
> 
> And of course Nagisa's failed attempt at reasoning some with Fumiko's parents and only putting Fumiko through more discomfort. I've talked a bit in the past about how this fic continues the themes of Assclass and one thing I've definitely made sure to touch on is my own qualms with how Assclass handles abuse narratives. Not everything can be handled by a simple talk, and Nagisa should have known better. He'd just got too caught up in the past with everything going on lately. But the good news is he won't make that mistake again. And he seems to have found SOME sort of solution.
> 
> What is it? 'Fraid I can't say! You'll just have to see next chapter!
> 
> Next chapter will probably be another 2 week wait. It's technically already ready but the one after it has a pretty big chance of being a long one and I like having the buffer to rely on. Hope you don't mind the wait! In the meantime while you wait you can get your daily dose of Adventures In Solitude here! 
> 
> https://ais-fic.tumblr.com/
> 
> I finally made a blog to compile all the content I have for it. Here you can find every chapter to date, art I've done, character profiles and ask memes. You can even send in questions if you'd like! I hope it suffices for now. :3c
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were To Break In A Glove from Dear Evan Hansen, The Outsider by Marina and the Diamonds, Are You Satisfied by Marina as well, and The Love Club by Lorde.
> 
> I'll have the next chapter up as soon as possible! As always let me know what you thought, and I hope you enjoyed it! o7


	13. Fumiko Time

Fumiko’s not sure what to expect from Nagisa on Monday. 

Sunday had gone… Poorly. Even ignoring the awkward breakfast (And Nagisa’s barely disguised abject horror at seeing her family,) her parents are immediately over her like a flock of vultures. 

“You’ll behave yourself for him, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Now don’t you go complaining about this arrangement. It’s for your own good.”

“I won’t, Father.”

“He’s going to set you straight, you know.”

_ ‘Like hell, he will.’ _

She bites her tongue and holds back the retort.

“I know, Father...”

Nagisa’s staring at the door when she makes her way into class. He bolts to his feet, awkwardly shuffling over and pulling her aside. “Uh. Do you mind if we chat?” he asks, giving her an antsy glance. 

“Of… Course not,” she replies, turning her head towards Kiyoshi. “You can seat yourself in the meantime. This shall only take a minute.”

“O- Oh. Okay,” He says, scrambling over to his desk and giving her a tiny wave. “Try to be back soon!”

...Lord, he looks so awkward, sitting there all alone in a sea of empty desks. For a moment, Fumiko even reconsiders how early they’ve been getting to class, but subsequently remembers as mind-numbingly boring as homeroom is, it’s better than getting chewed out by her family.

Nagisa nods and heads into the hallway. He leads her towards the teachers’ lounge. He almost even reaches to place a hand on her shoulder, but quickly reconsiders.

...Good. She doesn’t like being touched.

He sits down behind that massive oak desk, then motions for her to take a seat across from him. She makes herself comfortable, before crossing her hands over her lap and meeting his eyes.

“So… Sunday,” he says, steepling his own fingers. He sharply inhales and gives an aside glance.

“Sunday,” she repeats, wishing he’d just get to the point.

“Listen, Fumiko. I’m not sure what I expected to happen there, but that was  _ not  _ it.” 

No shit. 

“Of course,” she replies with a frown.

“I… Felt the need to talk to your parents before making any further decisions, but that was wrong of me. I’d… Met them before, and should have been well aware I was putting you in an uncomfortable situation. I put the comfort of the familiar over your safety, and I should have thought things through more before coming to a decision like that. I… Forgot what it was like to be in your shoes, and that was dangerous. I’m sorry. Nothing… Bad happened after our meeting, right?”

Fumiko blinks. Slowly. Once, then twice. “P… Pardon?”

“Your… Your parents didn’t hurt you, ri-”

“No, no! Of course not-!” Fumiko interrupts, shaking herself from her shell-shock. “My parents… Didn’t lay a finger on me.” Nor have they ever. They’re not  _ real  _ bad parents. Not like Makoto’s. They’re just… Scary. And scary can't hurt someone.

“I’m just…” She pauses. “Rather taken aback by the rest of your statement.”

Nagisa blinks. “...Oh.”

...Now that she reflects on it, she thinks she hasn't heard an adult say sorry once in her entire life.

It takes all her willpower to hold back tears. She bites her lip. Hard. Something has to be seriously wrong for her to even CARE this much. So what if they've never apologized? That makes Nagisa the odd one out here. So what if they've never apologized? It's because they're right. And she's wrong. She doesn't need their fucking pity.

...Or his. If she cries in front of him again she thinks she'll never forgive herself.

“I.. Mean it,” he says, his voice quiet. “Hell, I spent all last night thinking about it,” he admits. “I’m… sorry if you’ve never heard that before, Fumiko. But that makes it all the more my job to not screw things up for you. I won’t do it again, okay?”

...She thinks her lip is going to bleed.

“Of… Of course.” She straightens herself. She props her shoulders and takes a deep breath. “To your credit, Shiota-sensei, it… Wasn’t all bad. Is it true you plan to tutor me? Or had that statement been another spur of the minute poor decision?”

He’s staring at her, frazzled and wounded.

W- Whoops.

“Er... I mean is this a plan you intend to stick by? I completely understand if I’m not worth your time-”

“You are  _ one hundred percent  _ worth my time, Fumiko,” Nagisa says, leaning forward. “I would be  _ delighted  _ to tutor you.”

The way he says it is so fake, so stilted. The way her parents talk about her in front of particularly noteworthy people. Her mother pinching her cheek and calling her wonderful all the while begging her to just sit down and behave.

And she’s tried! She’s  _ trying.  _ She doesn’t know what’s wrong with her.

She shuffles uncomfortably.

“I mean that, Fumiko. You a-”

“And I know you do,” she interrupts, irritation prickling in her tone. “That doesn’t make it any easier. To believe that..”

Believe  _ what?  _ That anyone could possibly care about her? She is  _ not  _ saying that in front of him. Not on her goddamn life.

“...To believe that this is really a part of your job. This seems… Excessive, Shiota-sensei.  _ Superfluous,  _ even.”

Nagisa’s silent. “Perhaps… I am going way beyond what’s expected of me. But this is what  _ I  _ expect of myself as a teacher, regardless of whether or not the rest of the world holds me to that standard. My… Own teacher taught me just how much that sort of thing could mean. And it’s my job to carry on his legacy.”

“...Korosensei?”

“Yeah,” Nagisa says, giving a sad smile. “Korosensei.”

Suddenly it feels like there’s an octopus in the room. But that  _ does  _ remind her.

“Shiota-sensei?” she asks. “...I… Couldn’t help but note the way you talked about Makoto to my parents. The… Things you said about him.”

“...Yes?”

“Is… Is that how you talk about me when I’m not around? Me and… The other students? You go on and on about how delightful I am, but would you have the audacity to praise me in front of another individual?”

...Or is Makoto an exception? An outlier? She so desperately wants to believe that genuine sort of fondness can be applied to her... But it's hard not to doubt. Even beyond potential delusions that Makoto is... Something more than he first appears, he's just so much kinder and grander than she could ever be.

...That stings to admit.

Nagisa frowns. Deeply. “Fumiko, I gush about you and the others as much as I physically can,” he says slowly. “Just ask my spouses. I’m sure they’re half-sick of it! Everything I’ve said to you, I’d say to anyone. Hell,  _ have  _ said to anyone who will listen!” He pauses. “My class is… My class is my pride and joy, you included. Everything I’ve said to you is the truth. Because… I don’t see the point in lying to my students. So I mean it. And I’ll have you know I damn well tried to praise you as much as I possibly could during parent-teacher meetings, too. I’m… Sorry if they didn’t pass that onto you. And I’m sorry if I didn’t praise you enough over brunch... While you were there to hear it. I’d just been… Scared. Scared of them taking it out on you.” 

There it is again. That ‘sorry.’ 

‘Taking it out on you’ he says.  _ Taking it out on her?  _ Praise is all her parents have ever wanted of her.  _ Demanded of her.  _ And yet… She still can’t bring herself to believe he’s incorrect. They  _ would  _ lash out at her for it. The wrong sort of praise for the wrong sorts of things, they'd say. Then they’d turn, yell, and blame Nagisa for her ‘narcissistic delusions.’

...Will they never be happy with anything she does?

“I’m taking it I won’t be participating in assassination?” she finally asks. If there’s any topic she’s been avoiding, it was that one. But it’s time to cut the crap. Who is she kidding? Of course she won’t be. There’s no use in pretending. Nagisa won't fight the current. Not after seeing what her parents were capable of.

There’s this sick twisted knot in her gut.  _ All  _ she wants is to be like them.

...Like  _ who?  _ Does she even know!? Like her parents, prim, proper, and successful? Or like her friends, who ride free and happy? Like Shiota-sensei, trying his best to formulate praise across the table? Or like someone she doesn’t even  _ know?  _ Does it even really matter? Because she  _ can’t  _ live up to any of these things. Not. A single. One. There’s something seriously wrong with her, and she doesn’t know why she tries.

Nagisa looks at her sternly. “Fumiko, I  _ promised  _ you I’d find a way to help you participate in assassination. I’m not giving up on you that easily.” He stands and reaches for a large bag on the floor next to him. “Let’s go over the plan.”

Fumiko’s heart skips a beat. “T-The plan?” she sputters. “But my parents said-”

“This isn’t their decision to make,” he says, hauling the bag up onto the desk. “This is where… I need to ask you to make an important decision. And I  _ completely  _ understand if the answer is no. I won’t be mad, or disappointed, or angry. I just want you to have this option. Because if I don’t give you a chance, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.” He pauses, takes a deep breath, and gives her a nervous smirk. “Are you willing to lie to your parents?”

If Fumiko hadn’t been baffled before, she is now. “E-Eh!?”

“Not about anything important,” Nagisa quickly specifies. “Only about assassination. I can find a way to have you participate without getting caught. But I… Know at this point we’re not going to get their permission. So… Are… You really okay with doing this without their approval?”

Fumiko’s quiet. She balls her fist and thinks. More than  _ anything _ she wants to say yes. 

So she takes a deep breath, steels her resolve, and does.

“...And this isn’t a trap? ...You won’t tell them?”

“On my life: I won’t tell them.”

“I’m in.”

Fumiko is  _ sick  _ of being excluded. And maybe she can’t trust Nagisa. But she wants to. Because at least he has the guts to say sorry. No-one else has ever given her enough credit to do that. The least she owes to herself is the opportunity to try.

“Alright,” Nagisa says, nodding. “And… If you ever change your mind, fear getting caught, or don’t feel safe participating in assassination, you can back out at any time. I promise.” He unzips the bag, and pulls out… A roll of fabric? “As for now, here’s our magnum opus.”

He lays it out across the desk. And upon closer inspection it quickly becomes apparent as clothes. Army print.

“This is… Something of mine from back in the day. From when I was an assassin myself. When things got riskier and riskier trying to assassinate Korosensei, the governm-”

Fumiko interrupts. “Got worried about you hurting yourselves and gave you these, right?” she asks.

Nagisa nods. “You’ve heard of these?”

Damn right she’s heard of these! She’s not just staring at a solution to her problem. She’s staring at a piece of  _ history.  _

Nagisa smirks. “It’s reenforced with bulletproof metal. Shockproof, too. You  _ won’t  _ get hurt or bruised in this thing. My biggest worry about allowing you to participate was you getting caught by your parents. But with this baby you will  _ not  _ get caught. You won’t need to worry about tearing or otherwise damaging those fancy clothes of yours. And you certainly won’t need to worry about being injured.” He picks it up in his hands, walks to her side, and puts it up to her. “I know it’s sort of heavy, and I know it’s not exactly high-fashion; but I hope you can accept it.”

Fumiko slowly blinks. She reaches out to run her fingers across it, then takes it in her shaky hands. Heavy is right. Even to the touch it feels more like armor than an outfit. Because it  _ is.  _ And he’s not exactly wrong about it being a little more than unfashionable. It’s the ugliest thing she’s ever seen.

But...

“Are you kidding me!?” she exclaims, grinning. “I love it it! Is… Is it authentic!?”

She hadn’t been pulling Kiyoshi’s leg when she told him she’d had a bit of an obsession with the moon incident a few years back. It’s… Weird at best, and humiliating at worst, but as someone who _ thrives  _ at history, it’s damn well fascinating. Beyond the octopus - And even beyond the ravaged moon - The idea of something so deeply capable of changing the face of  _ history itself  _ occuring only years before she was born has always engrossed her. It was an acute psychological observation of how people react when faced with the prospect of the end of the world. The topic of a thousand ethical debates. A mystery for the science world and a permanent addition to the history textbooks.

It was world-shaking. It was life-changing. And it’s in her hands.

“Yep,” Nagisa replies, his own grin widening. “I told you: It’s mine. It might be a little big for you, bu-” He drifts off, stares, and chokes back laughter. “Oh my god! That’s the first time I’ve ever gotten to say that to anyone! It’s too big for you!”

“A tad big or not, I think I’ll survive.” Fumiko replies. She tries to dial back her own grin to a casual smile, but keeps feeling a tug at the corners of her lips.

Real! Moon! Incident! Gear! From when Korosensei was  _ alive! _

It takes all her self restraint to keep herself from bouncing from foot to foot.

Her excitement can only last so long, however. Because wonderful or not, Nagisa’s gift still raises one big question.

Fumiko’s thrilled fidgeting slows to a stop as she finally meets Nagisa’s eyes. “Why… Why are you giving me this?” she asks, voice quiet. It’s hard not to stare at the tie around his neck. The way he’d talked about Korosensei… And the way he talks about Makoto. Even as an outsider, it’s not hard to see just how dearly he treasures his childhood memories. “This must be really important to you.”

Nagisa nods. “Of course. But you’re important to me, too. Remember?”

Fumiko stares.

“It’s my job to look out for you. This has served its purpose for me. So let’s put it to some good use, okay? All yours now. No strings attached.” He smiles and tilts his head. “It’s what my sensei would want."

His smile seems… So genuine. So Kind. So  _ proud.  _ He holds the gear out towards her, as if saying ‘you’re safe now.’

And finally, she feels she is.

Before she can even process what she’s doing, she wraps him in a massive hug. Squeezes him tight and blinks back tears.

“T-Thank you, Shiota-sensei...”

Nagisa stiffens, stares, and slowly smiles. He eases into her sudden embrace and gently ruffles her hair.

“Hey. No need to thank me. I told you: I’m just doing my job.”

 ...Maybe she can trust for now.

She hardly even realizes just how right she’s squeezing him until he lets out a quiet ‘ack!’ 

“Okay, okay. Loosen up.” he reminds her. “You’re not trying to assassinate me  _ yet.  _ Don’t want me breaking my ribs now, do you? Then you’d have to wait even longer.”

Fumiko quickly pulls away. She opens her mouth to apologize, but closes it just as quickly. No. No apologies. Not to Nagisa.

“Eh. No promises,” she says with a smirk. “Could always be trying to get an illegitimate upper hand.”

“Aaaaaahhh, I see. Already learning from Makoto?” Nagisa inquires, patting her shoulder. “Shit - Which reminds me. I haven’t even told you the full extent of ‘tutoring’ yet, have I?”

“Pardon?”

"I know you're busy... You said it yourself. You're occupied with doing a lot of important stuff. But now that you have time booked for tutoring: I just want you to know you can come over to my place  _ whenever you want.  _ Makoto and I have typically been finishing up tutoring by five or six. But your parents gave me permission to keep you until eight. Makoto's been stopping by my place after he finishes up his work, so if you ever want a reason to see my place... Now you have an excuse. You don't gotta if you don't wanna, but I figured it could be fun to get to know Kayano better, argue with Karma some more, and spend some time with Makoto."

Fumiko blinks. It’s… An odd concept. He's right. She's busy. She has things to do. And she doesn’t exactly have anything to gain by spending her evenings at Nagisa's house. She’s sure it’s a subpar home at best... Nothing compared to her usual standard of living.

But... She likes the idea of getting to spend some time with Nagisa’s family. And... There’s this little voice in the back of her gut telling her ‘anything is better than going home.’

“I’d love that.”

“Great. It’s a plan, then. I’ll let everyone know to expect you Tuesday.”

Fumiko’s lip quivers. And this time, she thinks she’s finally going to cry in the good way. A… All of this…  _ For her.  _ Multi-millionaire heritage or not, she’s never felt this spoiled in her life.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Nagisa nods. Then sends a quick glance towards the clock and realizes the time. She’s starting to notice a trend with this guy. “Aw, crap. I should really get in and start homeroom soon-” he admits.

_ Klutzy moron… _

“Of course,” Fumiko says, nodding.

“Thank you for hearing me out, Fumiko.”

_ He’s thanking her!? He’s thanking _ **_her!?_ **

He hands over the PE Gear to her and smiles. “You wanna try it on now or wait unti-”

“Are you kidding me!?” Fumiko interrupts. “Now! I  _ gotta  _ see how this thing fits.”

“Alright. Go and get changed, then,” he says, gesturing for her to get on her way. “I’ll wait until you’re back to start homeroom. Try not to brag to your classmates too much about it, okay? It’d suck if they get jealous. Something tells me Karasuma will have my head if I tell him I need a new order of these because the others are jealous.”

"Of course," she says with a scoff. "Don't worry about me. I'll behave." She gives him a smile, then turns towards the door, PE Gear in hand. "...Thank you Shiota-sensei. I promise I'll make good use of this."

And before he can thank her, she's gone. She hurries out of his office and down the halls. Somehow she feels like if she's in that room another moment she'll burst. But... In the best way.

For the third time today, she blinks back tears. And finally, she lets them flow.

The impossible is in her hands - And with it, it feels like the whole world is as well.

* * *

Fumiko takes to assassination quickly. At first Nagisa’s admittedly worried about how she’ll fit into the dynamic of things. It’s not like she’s ever done anything like this before, after all. But Makoto and Kiyoshi quickly help her feel at home.

Assassination teams have bumped up to groups of three by now, and just in time, because she completes their little trio well. Where Kiyoshi’s a follower and Makoto’s an improviser, Fumiko is borderline  _ cunning--  _ and Nagisa just barely manages to stop her from backstabbing him on her second day of assassination.

He swivels around and blocks her blow with his arm. She stumbles backwards and almost falls, but he quickly grabs her hand. When she sees the look on his face she seems almost sheepish or ashamed-- but when he congratulates her on the fantastic attempt her spirits quickly lighten. Makoto and Kiyoshi rush to her side, Makoto boasting about how cool she looked, and Kiyoshi apologizing for being an insufficient distraction.

She shrugs and says it’s fine. They’ll get him next time. And there’s this grin on her face that leaves Nagisa with no doubt she means it.

There’s this… Side to Fumiko he’s never seen before that really shines during Assassination. At first, it hardly shows... Like a nervous puppy barely peeking its head out from behind a street corner. But as she tries again each day… It slowly steps into view. And then, without warning, it  _ lunges _ : A Fumiko he never thought he’d see.

A Fumiko who soars across the field and draws her blade through the air. A Fumiko who stumbles and falls to the ground, but rushes to her feet and returns to her onslaught without a moment of hesitation. A Fumiko who runs proudly, her scarf fluttering behind her. And a Fumiko who laughs louder and louder each time she conspires with friends.

...A month ago, a Fumiko who let herself laugh at all was unthinkable.

As promised, she stops by Nagisa’s home on the allotted days. And at first, she’s quite unimpressed. She loudly comments on the 'garden variety' nature of their home. But Makoto gently punches her shoulder, calls her a snob, and gives her a tour of the place. It takes her a second, but surely, her tune starts to shift.

The house may be mundane, but the people inside are anything  _ but.  _

She bickers with Karma, and he bickers right back. Makoto jumps in between, begging his friends to get along-- but all it takes is one precisely aimed insult from Karma to get him in on the bitchfit, too. One evening he suggests they spar with paper towel rolls and Nagisa has to shoot that idea down before a hurricane of middle schoolers and an adult who may as well behave like one destroys his living room.

Gakushuu takes to her well. Nagisa has an acute feeling he sees himself in her just a little too much. But he’s kind. And they get along swimmingly. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s never seen Gakushuu take to one of his students this well in his entire life. He’ll be working on a lesson plan when he overhears them discussing something like stocks with all the passion of a thousand suns and wonders just what kind of thirteen-year-old he’s welcomed into his home.

Fumiko hadn’t been lying when she said she was a fan of Kayano’s work. They make a habit of movie nights on Fridays, and Kayano quickly takes a shine to getting to show off her best works. Makoto’s favorite ends up being a sappy flick about long lost lovers, and Fumiko ends up having a penchant for a particularly exciting action film where Kayano gets to put a man in a chokehold. Kayano admits it’s nice to have her around. She’d gotten lonely being the only girl in the house for so long.

More and more often Kiyoshi ends up stopping by. He’s in no need of Nagisa’s tutoring, but tends to peek his head in once they’re finished up. Nagisa has no complaints. He’s a polite boy, and practically family, at that! He’d stopped visiting as much as he’d grown older, and it’s nice to have him around again. So when Makoto starts giving him a call the moment they’re free, Nagisa doesn’t bother to stop him.

Which for the record, - Yeah - Nagisa bit the bullet and bought Makoto a phone. Turns out he hadn’t had one before. The idea of not being able to get in contact with him, especially considering his unstable home situation left a poor taste in Nagisa’s mouth, so he’d decided to gift him one. It’s a sparkly piece of technology fresh off the press from Gakushuu’s company, and Makoto takes to it like a fish takes to water. Before anyone can say ‘octopus’ he has a  _ bit  _ of a Neko Atsume 3 addiction.

And speaking of ‘nekos,’ Nagisa finally meets the infamous Miss Nao. True to Kiyoshi’s word: She’s horrific. Nagisa’s seen hell in quite a few times and quite a few ways. He’s even looked in the face of death. But nothing he’s ever faced has sounded quite like Missus Nao. 

When he first hears the deathly caterwauls of the soulless feline one Monday afternoon he thinks the fire alarm has gone off. His second guess, immediately after hearing Makoto’s enthusiastic shouting is that he’s welcomed some sort of feral animal into their home.

...And feral isn’t entirely wrong. But Miss Nao isn’t the raccoon or opossum Nagisa is expecting. In fact, he can hardly parse what she even is when he first spots her writhing in Makoto’s arms. 

Kayano stumbles over herself in a panic trying to persuade him to get her out of there. Begging in a shrill tone “Koro - Er! Makoro- Fuck!  _ Makoto!  _ Put the cat back outside!”

Karma scoffs, seemingly unbothered by the hissing time bomb that had been dragged into their house kicking and screaming. _ “Makoro?  _ Seriously?” He chides. He pauses, bringing his hand to his chin. “...Y’know… That actually makes a pretty good nickname.”

Makoto throws a hand in the air, careful to cradle his not-so-fragile companion with the other. Yelling in frustration, he shouts **_“God damn it!”_ ** To which the cat only shrieks along. “I spend all month trying to think of some cool nickname for you to get you back for ‘Korosensei,’ and you beat me to it! That is  _ not  _ fair!”

And so maybe there’s finally something that even Makoto can’t revenge.

It ends up being both a curse and a blessing that Gakushuu had been out shopping for groceries at the time seeing as how on one hand he probably would have had a stroke seeing the objectively abhorrent Miss Nao set foot in their home, but on the other… A fifth hand sure would have been a lot of help in trying to catch her after Makoto dropped her in his petty frustration.

It takes an hour to lure the cat out from under the couch and longer to get her back in Makoto’s arms.

With time to dwell on it he holds Miss Nao proudly and grins. “Makoro…” he muses, stroking his cheek. “...I like it. You can call me that sometime, Kayano. But only if I get to nickname you back!”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He still hasn’t come up with one by the time Fumiko stops by on Tuesday and Nagisa finds himself grateful for that. He’s not exactly sure how he’d explain away literally any of this to her. His relief can only last so long however, as Makoto soon lets it slip that Thursday that she and Kiyoshi already know.

“They do!?” Nagisa sputters.

“Duh!” Makoto replies. “I mean, they don’t count, right? You told me not to tell any of the E-Class ‘cuz it was too complex. But they’re different. They’re just my normal friends. My best friends! So I had to tell them! Otherwise what sort of best friend would I be? Don’t worry! They won’t tattle. Fumiko’s no snitch, and Kiyoshi couldn’t gossip if his life depended on it. I put my money on the right guys.”

Nagisa’s… Hesitant. The last thing he needs is Makoto’s newfound friends judging him, Kiyoshi saying something to his parents, or god forbid: Fumiko and Kiyoshi asking him what _he_ thinks.

Because yes, he thinks Makoto is Korosensei! He  _ knows  _ Makoto is Korosensei! But no, he does  _ not  _ want to announce it in front of the entire class.

...He supposes there’s nothing he can do about it now. All Makoto had done was tell them the truth. And he has a point with the whole ‘best friends’ thing. If he’d had any sort of earth-shattered revelations about himself back in the day he’d have told Kayano, Karma, and Sugino in an heartbeat. That's what trust is. And having someone your age to hear you out is important when developing opinions on these sorts of things. He doesn’t like it, but there’s nothing to be done about Fumiko and Kiyoshi being let in on their little secret.

Thankfully, they don’t bring it up to him, and he doesn’t bring it up to them. Quite frankly, this is something that doesn’t even really involve them in the first place, so he leaves them be. And when he catches Makoto excitedly recounting his exploits to his friends in a way that makes him seem  _ much  _ cooler than he really was, he decides to let him brag.

Korosensei deserves a bit of a bragging right. And it’s too late to force the cat back in the bag now.

The cat doesn't disappear.

...The real cat, that is. Not the Korosensei secret.

Fumiko and Kiyoshi seem familiar with the menace. And although Kiyoshi dances around, delicately avoiding meeting her fierce feline gaze, Fumiko gives her her space in a distinctly different way. She does not pet, or even approach Miss Nao. But she approaches her in a way that  _ exudes  _ respect. And Miss Nao respects her back.

Gakushuu, on the other hand, is far less than subtle about his distaste for the cat. And he demands Makoto get her out of his perfectly pedigreed house. One quick Google search about the dangers of outdoor cats later they decide there’s no way in hell they’re sending her back out onto the streets, and even briefly consider homing her with Kiyoshi. But that ends up being a fat ‘no,’ considering he knows for a fact that that grimalkin demon will bully his precious Taro past his breaking point.

When worst comes to worst and even a quick interest check in the E-Class group chat isn’t enough to rehome her, (You  _ know  _ it’s bad when even Kurahashi won’t touch the thing) Gakushuu hesitantly relents.

“Fine. We’ll watch over her for now.  _ Temporarily.  _ But you need to bathe the thing. She is  _ covered  _ in fleas.”

And so that’s how the whole family ends up crouching down on the slick bathroom floor with two cackling preteens behind them as they try to contain all the wrath of a feline wronged. It takes all of their efforts just to get her to hold still, but a whole lot of blood and tears later and they manage to give her a bath and a haircut. By the time they're done, she looks like an entirely different cat.

...Still not an  _ attractive  _ cat... (The overbite, cross eyes, and the unfathomable malice speak for themselves), but a cat that at the very least appears to be  _ alive.  _

 “What was it you told me at the beginning of the year?” Karma asks Nagisa, drying the cat with a massive fluffy towel. 

“Huh?”

“Something something ‘we’re a pet free household until July?’”

Nagisa sheepishly shrugs his shoulders. “...Eh… Isn’t… Late June close enough?”

“You’re on thin-fucking-ice.”

But all it takes is one look at Karma’s smitten face to tell he’s already in love with their temporary roommate. Coming as a surprise to no-one, seeing as how they’re both demons from hell.

In time, they grow used to her. And Nagisa even swears he catches Gakushuu petting her on the couch out of the corner of his eye once in a blue moon.

Nagisa whittles away at keeping his promise to Makoto. He’s still not exactly sure how to get him in contact with people like the ever-busy Takebayashi or the overseas Rio, but he does what he can and begins with small steps. He invites Sugino over to chat on a lazy Saturday afternoon and reminisces over a cold drink. Oh, but it just happens to be a ‘coincidence’ when one of his students shows up and gets to meet the baseball star. They hit it off, and Makoto’s gushing over his technique in no time. Before they know it they’re spending that lazy Saturday tossing a baseball around in the backyard.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even need to try. The class ends up catching Kurahashi giving a tour one day while they’re outside practicing speed math. And another particularly sweltering afternoon Okano peeks her head into the classroom and asks for a place to cool off. Ends up inviting her whole team in for a particularly inefficient English lesson. But a set of super-talented acrobatic performers or not, there’s only one person amongst them Makoto's interested in chatting with

For how poor he’d been keeping the secret with his friends, Makoto is surprisingly adept at keeping his lips zipped around his former students. He bounces from toe to toe and excitedly waves them over. He hides none of his pride, rambling about their accomplishments and gushing about how cool they are, but if you squint that’s just the rambling of a mere fanboy. He never once lets things slip while they’re around to hear. Though the moment they’re out of earshot he’s already talking Nagisa’s ear off about how great it had been to see them again.

It’s a quiet Thursday evening when Ritsu peeks her head in to check up on Nagisa. But she finds herself with a bit more than a simple ‘how have things been?’ on her hands when Nagisa informs her he’s  _ sorta  _ put the pieces together about their little conspiracy theory. All it takes is getting Nagisa’s confirmation and a single moment of hearing Ritsu's voice for Makoto to try and wrench the phone out of Nagisa’s hands.

“A- Ah! Be careful!”

“I will!” he says with all the reckless disregard of the preteen he is. He holds the phone up too close to his face, waving excitedly.

“Ritsu! You know!?”

“I know,” she admits, giving a shy nod of her own.

He hugs the phone against his chest and jumps up and down. “It’s awesome to see you again!” he shouts. “I missed you! I missed you! I missed you!”

The reunion is so sweet it just about brings tears to Nagisa’s eyes. But heartwarming or not Nagisa  _ does _ beg Ritsu to pop into one of the family computers in the lounge before Makoto ends up shattering his phone out of pure joy.

Needless to say, Makoto ends up hugging the computer, too.

Nagisa catches Kiyoshi and Fumiko exchanging a perturbed glance as they watch him on the couch. But Makoto hardly seems faltered by their confusion, motioning back and forth from the computer to the couch.

“Ritsu, this is my friends! Fumiko and Kiyoshi, this Ritsu! She’s apeshit!”

“A… Apeshit?” Kiyoshi murmurs in disbelief. Even Ritsu stifles a giggle.

“Well she  _ is  _ an artillery unit,” Fumiko interjects.

“W- Well, I knew  _ that,”  _ Kiyoshi sputters. “It’s just that Ritsu’s the least apeshit person I kno-”

Makoto gasps softly. “You know!?”

“Of course I know,” Fumiko huffs. “It’s just basic knowledge. After all, not only is she a key figure in the moon incident, but the first AI advanced to her stage. She’s a pinnacle of robotics development.”

“Really?” Makoto says, cheekily sticking out his tongue.

“Yes, really!” Kiyoshi tacks on. “I’m surprised you don’t know this.”

“Oh! I know!” Makoto says. “I was just gonna say… I’m  _ sorta  _ the one responsible for pushing her AI to that level.”

“You’re  **_what!?”_ **

_ “No you’re not!” _

Nagisa makes sure to peek out of the room before they can ask  _ him  _ any further questions. But an hour later he still hears them conversing with Ritsu. Fumiko gushing over how cool she is as the first of her kind, Makoto gushing over how cool she is as a person, and Kiyoshi insisting she’s really not that cool considering she loves bad music and the concept of yoga pants.

The days continue to fly by. Fumiko’s grades crawl up from C minuses to C pluses. And Makoto’s creep up into passing. It’s Nagisa’s idea when they reinforce their core strengths by teaching each other. And both Fumiko and Makoto thrive when she starts giving a hand in tutoring him in History. He’s happy to return the favor, and continues to help her hone her technique in PE class.

When he has time, Kiyoshi’s willing to lend a hand, too. He  _ loves  _ feeling smart and loves helping his friends, so it’s a win-win combo. It’s not all bland education however, and Nagisa catches him both demonstrating the pop-rocks effect to them  _ and  _ teaching Makoto English swears (Much to Fumiko’s abject horror.)

“You know! For education!” he says with a sheepish grin. 

Yeah, let’s go with that.

At the very least he’s considerate enough to do the whole Diet Coke explosion thing outside where it won’t ruin Nagisa’s carpet.

All three do well on first trimester finals. And Nagisa can’t help but beam with joy when he looks over their grades. And as their grades improve, so does their friendship.

Fumiko pulls him aside one day, averting her gaze and staring at the floor. She lets him know that Makoto’s birthday is coming up, and bashfully asks if he can help her make a cake. Her face flushes red with embarrassment, but she admits she’s never baked before.

“Er… Your spouses can distract him, and we can bake it in the meantime. It only feels right to return the formality after he made something for me.”

“Sounds great,” Nagisa replies. Admittedly he’s never really baked much either before, so this cake is probably going to end up looking a _ little  _ unprofessional. But something tells him Makoto won’t care. As long as it tastes good, they’re in the clear.

They write the plan down and circle June 19th on the calendar with a big red marker. Nagisa can’t help but glance towards it each morning, an unwavering feeling in his gut. He gets the stuff for the cake in preparation and finds himself so excited he nearly forgets his own birthday comes soon after. But how could he not!? This is fantastic! No...! This is beyond fantastic!

The countdown to June 19th continues, and Nagisa can’t help but notice with an amused irony that it seems a lot less foreboding than the count to Makoto’s previous birthday.

And with improvements in friendship comes improvements in teamwork.

It’s three days before the end of the first trimester when they get the killing blow. Kiyoshi serves as a distraction and Makoto strikes at his leg. He loses track of Fumiko and all it takes is one stumble on his part for her to draw the blade against his throat. Before he can even process what happened, Makoto’s whooping and hollering.

“You  _ did it!”  _

The class gathers around, excitedly chittering. Fumiko takes a step back, eyes wide. Her mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. “I’m s-” She pauses. “I… I did it?” 

“You did it!” Makoto repeats, slapping her back as hard as he can. She hisses in pain, but grins a shy grin back.

“I… I did it…  _ I did it!”  _ She gets caught in the pure ecstasy for only a moment. Quickly, she turns to Nagisa, awkwardly fiddling with her hands. “I  _ did  _ do it, right? I’d hate to celebrate over nothing.”

Nagisa reaches up to touch his throat. Then slowly nods. “Yeah. You did it, Fumiko. Good job.”

She stares at him, then pumps her tiny fists in the air and laughs. “You hear that, world!? First authentic kill of the year!”

“H-Hey!” Makoto interjects. “ _ I  _ killed him day one.”

“She specified  _ authentic,  _ dumbass,” Kiyoshi replies. “You  _ did  _ technically break a few rules.”

Makoto glowers. “Did not!”

“Did too!” Fumiko chides, sticking her tongue out and stifling another laugh.

It’s… A far cry from the Fumiko he’d seen at the beginning of the year. To see her laugh, and not care who watches is… A relief. Goofing around with her friends and elbowing Maoto’s side, she finally looks like a kid. And first stepping into this, Nagisa had no clue if he’d be able to hear her laugh at all.

...This is why he loves his job.

The failures sting, but when he succeeds, it means more than anything. And seeing Fumiko pump her fists in the air, he doesn’t think he’d trade that for the world.

At least until he sees Kiyoshi bonk Makoto on the head. Okay! Okay!  _ Okay! _ Time to interrupt before they get into an actual fistfight.

Nagisa steps forward. “So, Fumiko, what would you like as reward for your accomplishment? I doubt you wanna skip, but correct me if I’m wrong. Do you wanna take the extra credit, or something else?”

“Give my grades a bump in math,” Fumiko says without a moment of doubt. She smiles, readjusts her scarf, and snickers again. “Let’s chalk it up to the tutoring.”

Nagisa smiles too. “Fine by me.”

And with the second assassination of the year in the bag, Nagisa can’t help but feel maybe he’s finally getting this figured out.

Before he knows it, summer’s arrived. School lets out for the month, and he carefully transports the class pets back home. Vacation draws closer and closer, as does Makoto’s birthday. The kids continue to pop their heads in, devouring popsicles to drown out the summer heat. And he swears he hears Fumiko laugh more and more.

Nagisa can't help but laugh as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot, woot! Chapter 13!
> 
> And with it, Fumiko's little arc comes to an end, alongside trimester one! I hope you enjoyed the story so far, and I hope you're enthusiastic to see where it goes in the future! After this chapter will be a bit of a segway chapter (And an ADORABLE one at that,) and then we'll get into the swing of trimester 2! I have a LOT of fun things planned for it, so I hope you're as excited about the future as Nagisa is!
> 
> I had a LOT of fun writing Fumiko in this chapter, and getting to show off a more dorky side of her. Because she IS dorky and enthusiastic and likes to have fun when she gets the chance. That's why this is so monumental for her. I've talked about this a bit in the past, but Fumiko's self esteem is incredibly up and down. She's a deeply insecure narcissist. So the moment someone compliments her she's outwardly like "Of COURSE I'm the best," but internally things are more complicated. And they're EVEN MORE complicated with adults. But Nagisa trusting her with something important to him felt like a big first step.
> 
> I hope ya'll are happy w the solution Nagisa came up with! It's a lil tidbit I've been planning since VERY early in the fic. And pretty clever, at that. Did any of you guess it ahead of time? :0
> 
> I had tons of fun writing the lil montage of fun things! There were a lot of small things I wanted to touch on, but didn't want to dedicate entire scenes to, so this was my solution! I think my favorite of the bunch has to be the Ritsu reunion and everything to do with Miss Nao!
> 
> Sorry that this was a bit of a shorter chapter, but I wanted to build up a backlog! Good news is for the next few weeks there should be weekly chapters! So look forward to that
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were What You Know by Two Door Cinema Club, King of Anything by Sara Bareillies, The Life I Never Led from Sister Act, and Life Is Rosy by Jess Penner!
> 
> Since we've reached the end of the first trimester, however, there's something I'd like to do! A **popularity poll!** I'm curious to see which characters from AIS are your favorites, so please tell me, either on Tumblr, Discord or through a comment! I'll tally the results in two weeks (So in two chapters) and share! I'll even do a lil drawing for it. My only request is that if you choose a canon character, have it be for something I added to them. (So less "Nagisa is my favorite anyway," more "I like how you've explored this aspect of him.") It's something a lot of manga does, and I thought it would be fun to try, so I can't wait to see how the results turn out!
> 
> Thank you for reading, and make sure to let me know what you think! Remember, the next chapter should be up in a week, so I hope to see you soon! o7


	14. Birthday Time

It’s evident Nagisa doesn’t know how to bake the moment he steps into the kitchen.

He’s pretty good at cooking. Certainly not as much as Karma, Gakushuu, or god forbid the gourmet Kayano, but he knows what he’s doing. When it comes to making something sweet, or something that looks  _ edible,  _ however, he just about turns into a newborn deer - Shaky legs and all.

It’s the day before Makoto’s birthday, and it’s time to finally put their cake plan into action.

“I probably should have asked Yukimura-san for help with this instead,” Fumiko notes, watching Nagisa pore over a recipe he found online. “Have you ever even done this before?”

“Never alone,” he admits. “Usually Kayano or Gakushuu is spearheading the thing.” They have a  _ bit  _ of a thing going where they make cakes for each other every birthday. And Karma and Gakushuu get  _ extravagant  _ with them. At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if they have a secret bet going on to see who can create the most intricate and stunning cake. But seeing as how baking requires some semblance of grace... More often than not the clumsy Nagisa is regulated to stirring the batter.

But they can’t help him. Not today! At least, not with the cake. They’ve been informed of the secret mission, and are in the lounge with Makoto, distracting him with a particularly bowdlerized game of Cards Against Humanity. 

...Which, for the record, had been  _ Karma’s  _ idea, not his. He’d complained the entire time as Nagisa combed the deck and removed every NSFW card.

“Come  _ on,  _ Nagisa, he has the soul of a grownass man! Let him have some fun!”

“Korosensei or not I am  _ not  _ letting one of my middle schoolers see the ‘Pacman guzzling cum’ card. Plus, Kiyoshi’s gonna be there.”

“Pah! Are you kidding me? Kiyoshi probably hears more about guzzling cum from his mother every single day than he possibly could fr-”

It’s at about this point Nagisa slapped his hand over Karma’s mouth and glowered. “I’m not budging, Karma.”

Sooner or later, Karma relented. But not before licking Nagisa’s hand.

...Bastard.

“Eh,” Nagisa says. “We don’t need them. I’m sure we can do something great, just the two of us.” 

Fumiko snorts. “This is going to end up horribly,” she comments. “We’re lucky Makoto doesn’t have standards.”

You know, how you talk about your best friend!

“Hey, hey. Don’t throw in the towel yet,” Nagisa says. “We haven’t even started.”

“Then we better. We don’t have all day.”

“Okay, okay!” Nagisa scrolls down the page and past some anecdote about the author’s dead father... Which is perfectly heart wrenching and all. He  _ gets it.  _ But he also just wants to bake a goddamn birthday cake. “Alright! So first we gotta preheat the oven!” he says, stumbling over to the oven and turning the heat up to 350 degrees. “And then next we’ll need…” He pauses. “Okay. There’s a lot of stuff here. If I read it off can you grab the stuff from the pantry? Or maybe I should grab i-”

Fumiko’s already in the pantry. “On it.”

“Alright. We need flour, sugar, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, and salt.” He pauses once more. “Oh shit. I’m gonna need to go find the salt.”

“You say that like you hid it,” Fumiko comments, struggling to haul the bag of flour onto the countertop.

Nagisa helps her lift it and sighs. “I did.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Er - Well, Kayano and I did,” Nagisa admits. “Karma and Gakushuu have a bit of an ongoing spat where they dump salt in each others’ coffee. Which is great and hilarious and not at all immature but they were also wasting literally all of our salt so we had to seal it away.” He catches Fumiko’s horrified look and shakes his head. “Don’t worry. I remember where we put it.”

“That’s not what I’m judging you for,” Fumiko sighs as she places the baking soda on the counter.

Nagisa crouches and digs through one of the ground-level cabinets. It’s their latest hiding spot after stashing it behind the cereal fell through. He and Kayano had snickered coming up with the idea. ‘The tall bastards will never see it coming.’

...Nagisa’s thankful if he has to suffer through the vices of being the size of a literal middle schooler he has someone to share in the pain.

After a bit more digging through bowls and pans, he finds the salt. He retrieves it with a smile and turns to Fumiko. “Alright. Now we just gotta mix this stuff... I think. Ah. Shit. Probably should have grabbed a mixing bowl while I was down there.” He crouches down once more and nabs a bowl. “I can mix it.” Trusted student or not he doesn’t want her losing a finger to the mixer. And he’s pretty used to being regulated to the mixer, anyway. “If I start mixing this stuff can you look for some more ingredients?”

“Of course,” Fumiko says with a nod.

“We need… Uh…” Shit. It’s been like a whole minute since he’s touched his phone, now he’s gotta go through the process of unlocking it and scrolling down past the dead father anecdote all over again. Okay. Okay. “Eggs, buttermilk, oil, warm water, and vanilla. The eggs should be in the fridge.”

Fumiko gets to work, as does Nagisa. He pours the instructed amount of their current ingredients together before sliding the bowl into the mixer and letting them whir together.

In the meantime, he decides to go grab a spoon for beating the dough. He crouches down  _ again  _ and tries to ignore the shrieking noise of the mixer.

“God, that’s loud,” Fumiko complains, reaching a hand to cover an ear.

 “Really?” Nagisa asks. “Is your mixer at home better or have you just never baked before?”

“Both,” Fumiko admits. “Usually our maids just cook for us.”

Nagisa slams his head on the cabinet. “Your  _ maids!?” _

Fumiko snorts. “Indeed,” she says with a smug grin. She seems decidedly proud of this, placing the oil down on the table with a skip in her step. “Don’t tell me that’s a foreign concept, Shiota-sensei.”

“Of… Of course not,” Nagisa replies. Quite frankly, he’s not sure what he’d expected considering the whole ‘her parents' go-to restaurant is a hellhole where a pancake costs 9,000 yen’ thing. Of course she has maids! “That’s just wild to imagine,” he says as he shuts off the mixer.

“It’s ‘wild’ to experience. Saves a girl time, though.” She opens the fridge and carefully shuffles through his things. “Where are the eggs? I don’t see th-”

“Behind the milk,” a cool and collected voice pipes up. “Right next to the jam. You can’t miss it.”

Nagisa jolts.

“Karma! What are you doing here!?”

His husband leans on the doorway, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Eh. Just decided I’d peek my head in and see how you two culinary newbies were doing.”

“I’m not a newbie,” Nagisa reminds him.

“Right. You’re just bad.”

Nagisa pouts and sticks his tongue out. “Aren’t you supposed to be distracting Makoto?”

“And I am! The rest are on it. I’ll be right back in in a sec,” he reassures. “If you want the full truth of the story… I just had to take a bathroom break. Can you fault a guy for that, Nagisa? Am I not allowed to pee now?”

Fumiko’s face scrunches with disgust. “Can you please make him leave?”

“I’m afraid to inform you the bathroom is across the hall,” Nagisa snarks. “Now listen to the little lady and scram.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve already pissed,” Karma says, as if literally anyone wants to hear about that. “I was on my way back when I couldn’t help but overhear something...” He clasps his fingers and leans forward with a wicked grin. “By any chance did you two mention my salt?”

_ “Our _ salt, Karma. Our salt that you’re wasting.”

Karma snickers. “I know, I know. I just had to stop by and see where you were stashing it. The cabinet, huh?  _ Smart.  _ Us tallasses never would have thought to check down there.”

Nagisa can’t keep the annoyed facade up for much longer. It’s his turn to chuckle. “Believe it or not, that was our  _ exact reasoning. _ ”

“Clever! Gonna have to find a clever-er place now, though. I’ve seen through your deceit. So unless you want me to get the upper hand against our dear Gakush-”

“I want you to stop tossing our salt down the drain.”

_ “So unless you want me to get the upper hand against our dear Gakushuu,  _ I’m afraid you’re going to need to find a new hiding spot.”

“Yeah, yeah. I will,” Nagisa replies, rolling his eyes. “In the meantime, while you’re here do you want to make some use of yourself and give us a hand?”

Karma cracks his knuckles. “I thought you would never ask!” he replies. “Makoto’s my tea-” He cuts that one off when he receives a weird look from Fumiko. “Pal, too. Gotta give at least  _ some  _ effort.”

Fumiko shakes her head and shoves the newfound eggs into his hands. “Okay, then. Shiota-sensei’s right. Get to it and make yourself useful.”

Karma nods, tries to crack his knuckles again but can’t because that’s not physically possible and settles on opening the carton. He takes an egg in his hand and cracks it on the side of the bowl. 

“Aaaaahhh… Satisfying. Feels just like cracking open the skulls of my enemies,” he comments.

Fumiko does a double take. 

“For the record, he’s never actually ‘cracked open the skulls of his enemies,’” Nagisa clarifies. “He’s just… Like this.”

“I figured as much.”

“And you love me for it…” Karma says, draping an arm over Nagisa’s shoulder. “I’m the spice of life~”

“Perhaps,” Nagisa admits, rolling his eyes.

“For the record, if you two get gushy right now I  _ will  _ vomit,” Fumiko says.

“Okay, okay, okay!” Karma says. “I’ll get to it and hurry up. No PDA in my own household. I am but a simple servant of the cake gods.”

“You know that’s not what I’m saying-”

Karma ignores her, humming and commenting on ‘enemy one,’ ‘enemy two,’ and ‘enemy three’ as he cracks the remaining eggs. 

“Will you quit trying to get a rise out of her?” Nagisa groans.

“The day the Akabane menace gets a rise out of me is the day hell freezes over.”

‘…The Akabane menace?’

Well! Nagisa’s glad to see Fumiko is taking to their family well! Because he genuinely would not be surprised if that phrase had come out of  _ all  _ of their mouths at one point! Learning to deal with the Red Bastard is just a rite of passage. 

Karma overdramatically pouts. “I can see I’m not wanted-”

“Or that you can’t have fun here.”

“I can see that I’m not wanted. I’ll be on my way.” He whirls around and gives a curt wave over his shoulders. “Gotta get back to Apples To Apples. Intense stuff!”

“I thought it was Cards Against Humanity?”

“At this point it may as well not be!”

“Have fun!” Nagisa says. “I’ll make sure to let Makoto know you gave us a hand.”

“I know you will, babe,” Karma says, blowing him a kiss as if just to piss Fumiko off, then making his grand exit. 

Before they know it they hear him cackling in the lounge with the others. So ‘Apples To Apples-ized’ or not, Cards Against Humanity must still be  _ pretty  _ fun.

“Is he always like that?” Fumiko asks as she pours the buttermilk into the bowl. 

“Yeah. Pretty much,” Nagisa admits.

“I don’t get how you can deal with him.”

“Eh. He’s right. It’s just part of his charm.” Nagisa pauses. “Plus, Karma might be rude, but he’s one of the most reliable guys I’ve ever known. We’ve been close since I was, like, thirteen, and he was  _ way  _ worse back then. Karma… Loves to be irritating, but he knows not when to cross a line. If he ever legitimately gets to you, let him know. I know that seems like a bad idea, but trust me when I say he’ll stop. He’s a good guy.”

Karma had just about had an aneurysm the first time he realized it was wrong to cross certain lines. And Nagisa gets it. He lived in a bit of a self-absorbed bubble. But that whole genuine ‘lol you mad?’ shtick had sort of fallen apart when  _ Rio  _ of all people had finally chewed him out over a topic starting with ‘N’ and ending with ‘agisa’s gender’

“Duly noted.”

They finish adding the remaining ingredients. Nagisa grabs a mixing spoon and turns to Fumiko. “You wanna stir the cake?” he asks.

He figures she’s never had the opportunity before, so he may as well put it out there. 

She frowns, but nods and shrugs. “I don’t see why not,” she says, taking the spoon from his hand. Diligently, she begins to stir the batter. “...Did you ever bake anything like this? Back then, I mean. With-” she pauses. “With The E-Class?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Once in a blue moon people tried to bake Korosensei food, then poison it. Appeal to his sweet tooth, you know? It didn’t work, though. He had a great nose.” 

“Noses, technically.”

Nagisa blinks. “You know your stuff.”

“I’m somewhat of a history buff,” Fumiko brags. “I’d be a fool to not educate myself on these sorts of matters.”

Nagisa smiles. It’s… Nice to think that kids nowadays are still thinking about his teacher, even without his influence Plus… It’s a weird sort of ironic heartwarming to think she’d managed to unknowingly become best friends with such an important figure.

“Oh! We baked a giant pudding, too.”

“Yeah. Yukimura-san told me about that one,” Fumiko says. “Sounds… Marvelous. I wish you’d gotten pictures.”

“Nope. I’m afraid the only place it could remain was in our hearts.”

“And your stomachs.”

“And in our stomachs.”

By now the batter’s looking relatively smooth. 

“I think it’s good to go,” Nagisa says. “You wanna lick the spoon clean before we get this thing in the oven?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you want to lick the batter?” It’s another one of those things he figures she’s never done before. And what is life without the childhood joy of eating stuff you  _ definitely  _ should not eat?

As if reading his mind, Fumiko frowns. “That sounds like a  _ really  _ good way to get salmonella,” she comments.

“A fair concern,” Nagisa says. “But I wouldn’t worry about that. Salmonella in eggs is super rare. And if stored at the correct temperatures has pretty much no chance to grow. I wouldn’t let you do something I thought was dangerous.”

Fumiko blinks. “My parents always said-” But quickly shakes her head. “...You know what? I’ll try it. If I get Salmonella then at the very least that’s my decision.”

A touching notion about autonomy but also completely wrong considering Nagisa is 98% sure she on’t get Salmonella in the first place.

Fumiko takes the spoon and gives it a lick. After a moment of dramatic silence, she lowers the spoon and shrugs. “It was okay.”

...Okay, so clearly this wasn’t as enlightening for her as this was for him.

“Fair,” he says, taking the spoon from her and tossing it in the sink. “In that case, you want to pour this? I’m thinking of trying to layer it, but I’m… Not actually super sure how to? So maybe that’s not a great id-”

“Sounds like someone needs a hand,” a familiar voice chides.

Nagisa jolts. He whirls around and meets eyes with Gakushuu. When had he gotten here!? Is… Is this what it feels like when  _ he  _ sneaks up on people!?

Fucking hell! No wonder Karma hated him in middle school!

Nagisa displays none of this openly. He quickly calms himself and nods. “That would be great,” He pauses. “...Though, on second thought, are you here to help with the cake, or did you just get word of the salt?”

Gakushuu rolls his eyes. “Is that what you really think this is about?” he asks, walking over to the counter. “Needless to say Karma did brag about his discovery,  _ but-”  _ Gakushuu clarifies in a tone that is, fittingly enough, rather salty. “That’s not the reason I’m here. I’m beyond his childish games. I just figured you could use some assistance.”

“Finally,” Fumiko says. “Someone who  _ knows what they’re doing. _ ”

Gakushuu smirks. And with all the smugness of a man who’s had everything come easily to his tall self reaches up to open an overhead cabinet. “You’re going to need dowel rods if you want to make a tier cake. Thankfully I’ve picked some up.”

“You are seriously prepared for  _ everything, _ ” Nagisa notes. “What on earth did you have these for? Karma’s birthday?”

“Let’s go with that,” Gakushuu says, bringing the ‘dowel rods’ over to the counter. “As for now, just bake the two tiers separately. Make the upper tiers have a smaller diameter unless you want structural instability. If you want to make a cake taller than six inches-”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” Nagisa interrupts. “This is like… My first time doing this. I’m  _ not  _ going any taller than that. Don’t worry. I think I’m just going to do a two-tier cake.”

“I’d figured as much,” Gakushuu responds. “In that case that definitely simplifies things. All you should need to do is bake them separately. Once they’re finished cooling measure the diameter of the top tier and mark it on the lower tier. Insert the dowel rods along this diameter and insert them. With the supports in place it should be easy enough to stabilize and place the upper tier on top.”

_ Will it, though?  _ This is all rocket science to poor Nagisa.

Thankfully for him, his partner in crime seems to have gotten a hang of what Gakushuu’s saying. “I… Think I get it,” Fumiko says. “I only have one question. What do we do if the rods are too long?”

“Oh. You cut them,” Gakushuu instructs. “Additionally if you’re worried about frosting sticking to the incorrect layer I’d recommend sprinkling some sugar alongside the diameter before you place the top tier. That should solve any issues.”

Nagisa stares. Why does it feel like his husband is a fucking Wikihow article sometimes!? Nonetheless, he nods and tries to file that advice in his brain. “Thank you. I’ll… Keep that in mind.”

Gakushuu helps them find sufficiently differently sized pans and pour the batter. They load the cakes into the oven and begin the slow wait to watch them bake. Gakushuu stays for a minute longer, sharing some further Cake Secrets, but before they know it he must be on his way.

“I can’t leave Karma unsupervised for  _ too  _ long. Lord knows he’ll drive Akari insane.”

Nagisa gives him a thanks and a kiss on the way out. Fumiko doesn’t complain this time. Something-something “Unlike Akabane, I respect Asano-san.”

He leaves the kitchen with a proud stride to his step. There’s nothing he loves more than being the one in ‘the know’ about something, so getting to explain the obscure rules behind cake-tiering for ten minutes straight is pretty much the man’s pipe dream.

“I’m surprised he didn’t care about the salt,” Fumiko comments.

“Oh. He definitely did. He just can’t admit it because that’s letting Karma win.”

Which is… Strange and sort of bad. But at the very least what he’s competing with Karma over is inane nonsense, not something that can actually hurt either of them.

(Of course not! The only thing they’re hurting is the family’s collective grocery bill.)

Fumiko snorts, then falls silent. She takes a seat at the table and anxiously waits for the cake to finish. Nagisa slides out a chair and takes a seat next to her. She’s staring at the table.

“You know, if you want you can go in there and play with the rest of them while we wait for this to finish,” he offers. “I can watch the cake and grab you when it’s done. I’d hate for you to be bored.”

“Absolutely not,” Fumiko says, shaking her head. “To be frank, the game you described sounds repulsive. I have no interest.”

“Fair,” Nagisa replies. “It’s… Definitely not for everyone.”

Fumiko nods, then falls silent. She sends a glance over towards the oven, before quietly speaking up. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

Nagisa blinks. “Of course he will, Fumiko,” he reassures. “Makoto’s going to be… Really happy we thought of him. And I’ll make sure to let him know this was your idea. This is gonna be his best birthday ever.”

Maybe even better than the one they’d shared all those years ago. Which is… Impossible to imagine. The emotion they’d felt surrounding their teacher and singing in memory of his birth had been insurmountable. But it had been interrupted - Torn from them - As so many things had been.

...Korosensei’s second-ever birthday.

And now, Makoto’s thirteenth. Nagisa doesn’t dare say it aloud, but something tells him this is the first time anyone has celebrated Makoto’s birthday, either.

Fumiko gives a tiny smile. “I hope so. When Makoto surprised me for my birthday… It…” she pauses. “Well, I don’t think anyone had ever thought about me like that before. It meant a lot. So… I hope this can mean as much.” She fiddles with the scarf around her neck. “It’s funny. At the start of the year, I’d never have thought I’d be baking a cake for him. I  _ hated  _ him.”

“Well, I’m sure the best gift of all for him will be knowing that you don’t anymore.”

Fumiko’s smile widens. “Well, I don’t know about  _ that, _ ” she sheepishly admits. “He has a sweet tooth. Something tells me he’ll be most enraptured by the cake.”

“Then don’t worry about that, either. He’ll love it.”

Slowly but surely the minutes pass. And before they know it the oven beeps. The cake is ready.

Nagisa searches for his pair of color-coded oven mitts, but when he can’t find them settles on borrowing Kayano’s green ones. He carefully extracts the pans from the oven. An amazing aroma immediately wafts across the room. So newbie cake or not, they must not have screwed up too badly, because his mouth is already watering.

A bit of fumbling around and some help from Fumiko later he manages to get the cake onto… That plastic thing you display cakes on (On second thought, he’s not exactly sure what that’s called, either. Curses! If only Gakushuu were still here. He would know.) With some more help from Fumiko understanding what the hell a ‘dowel rod’ is, they manage to get the top tier successfully onto the lower tier of the cake without too much issue.

Which means… It’s time to decorate it.

Oh man. Nagisa didn’t think he’d get this far.

“Okay! It’s time to make this thing look nice,” he instructs as he tries to remember which cabinet they keep the frosting in. “I’m not exactly an artist, so I’m not sure how this is going to turn out, but-”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.”

And for the third time today Nagisa’s shoulders just about pop out of their sockets. He jolts and whirls around to face Kayano.

“How do you guys keep  _ doing  _ this!?”

Kayano snorts. “I dunno. For the record, while I wouldn’t put it beyond Karma or Gakushuu, I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. Guess cake-baking is just taking your full focus, huh?”

“Damn right,” Nagisa replies. “This is  _ hard. _ ”

“Just to put it out there,” Fumiko says. “I heard her coming from a mile away. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Shiota-sensei.” 

_ Gee, thanks. _

“But after putting together that those two snuck in to give you a hand, I couldn’t resist. I can’t let the boys have  _ all  _ the fun, after all.” Kayano struts over to the counter with a smile. “Mind if I lend a hand? I’m  _ pretty  _ good at this, I’ll have you know.”

Oh. He  _ knows.  _ Kayano has amassed a pretty impressive portfolio of grand creations over the years. He supposes it only comes with the territory of being both a star and the possessor of a particularly passionate sweet tooth. And while perhaps a weaker person would admit they’d peaked at ‘building-sized pudding,’ Kayano has continued to create everything from individually shaped and carefully handmade cookies to downright adorable puppy-themed cupcakes she mailed to Karasuma for his 40th birthday.

Putting together something that will impress Makoto will be a cinch

“You know I have no complaints,” Nagisa says, turning to Fumiko. “You cool with Kayano lending a hand?”

Fumiko quickly nods. “I don’t mind at all.”

“In that case what are you thinking design-wise?” Kayano says. “I already have a few ideas if y-”

“Er… Mind if I help, too?”

Good news: Nagisa  _ doesn’t _ just about have a heart attack this time because the person who snuck into the room has all the intimidating energy of a baby lamb. Bad news: The whole ‘secret’ aspect of their ‘secret cake’ project is really starting to fall apart seeing as how now Kiyoshi is in on it too.

He must notice everyone staring at him, because he takes a step to duck behind the doorway. “I just noticed Yukimura-san and everyone else leaving. I know we’re supposed to be acting as a distraction, but I didn’t want to be left out.” He anxiously steeples his fingers. “Akabane-san has Makoto very distracted, so I hope you’ll let me give a hand, too.” He meets Nagisa’s eyes, a stern gaze in his own. “Makoto has been… Very nice to me, too, over these past few months. So please let me do something to thank him!”

There’s no question about it. Nagisa’s not going to turn him down. He nods and waves Kiyoshi over. “Happy to have you.” 

Fumiko nods. “Let’s make this the best cake ever.”

Kayano knows where the frosting cabinet is like it’s the back of her hand. Before Kiyoshi can even finish scooting his chair in it seems like they have every color of the rainbow ready at their disposal. She turns to Fumiko, seeing as how this was her idea first and foremost, and asks her if she has any idea for the theme.

She thinks it over for a minute. “Well… He’s been very into Korosensei lately.”

Nagisa doesn’t even need to meet Kayano’s eyes to know her grin is as wide as his.

A solid half-hour and way too much licked frosting later, and they’ve put together something pretty damn impressive. With Fumiko and Kiyoshi’s enthusiasm, Kayano’s skill, and Nagisa’s… Whatever it is he can offer, they have just the right skills to create something that all of them can be proud of.

The lower tier, as if illuminating the top is decorated with a pattern of the moon’s surface, raised craters and all. But the true  _ piece de resistance  _ is the top tier of the cake, decorated with Korosensei’s familiar face. A near-perfect replica, it’s almost uncanny just how on-point it is.

Dare he say… It leaves Rio’s store-bought cake in the fucking dirt!

It takes literally all of his self-restraint to resist snapping a picture of it and sending it her way. As delighted as he’d be to brag, she  _ had  _ been on a bit of a time limit when she’d acquired the store-bought cake, not to mention it would take  _ way  _ too much explaining to help her possibly fathom why he was baking a Korosensei cake in the middle of June.

This accomplishment will have to remain between the four of them. At least for now.

Fumiko’s excitedly shuffling. Even Kiyoshi seems genuinely content. Kayano wipes her brow and lets herself sit down.

“I think we’re done,” she says.

“I think so, too,” Nagisa admits.

“This is going to  _ blow Makoto’s socks off _ ,” Kiyoshi declares.

Nagisa  _ genuinely cannot wait  _ to show this off to Makoto tomorrow. It’s going to make his day. He’s… Glad so many people were able to step forward and think of Makoto. 

“The rest of you can get going,” he admits. “I’ll grab the…” He glances at where the cake sits. “Thing… And hide the cake. It’d be suspicious if you were gone too much longer.”

Kayano, with no tolerance for bullshit, isn’t letting that slide. Because promises to stash the cake away or not, there’s no way in hell she didn’t just notice him address what the cake sits on as ‘the thing.’

“The thing?” she inquires with a smirk.

_ Oh god. Oh fuck. _

“What… The cake is on. I don’t remember the word, okay?”

Kayano can’t help but giggle. “The stand. The word you’re looking for is the stand.”

Nagisa’s face flushes. And Fumiko shoots him a truly disappointed look.

“I cannot believe this man is my educator.”

“C-Can you blame me!?” Nagisa sputters. “Earlier Gakushuu was using words like ‘dowel rod!’ Do you blame me for thinking it would be something needlessly complex and out there!?”

“Whatever you say, Nagisa,” Kayano replies with another chuckle. “Either way, we’ll help you hide ‘the thing.’ I don’t entirely trust you to find it a good hiding spot seeing as how I heard Smartass and Smartasser got word of the salt.”

Nagisa’s shoulders sink. “Sure did. We’re gonna need to find a new place to stash that away, too."

Kayano nods. "Personally, I was thinking we could find a box of empty baking soda and toss it in there..”

“Kayano! You genius!” 

Kayano grins. “Oh, I know. Something tells me they won’t be able to tell the difference, and if one of them legitimately  _ licks a thing of baking soda trying to find the salt, I think they’ve earned the right to be as dumb as they want at that point. _ ”

Nagisa nods. “It’s a plan.”

“You two can keep a secret, right?” Kayano says, turning to Fumiko and Kiyoshi.

“Of course,” Fumiko says. “My lips are zipped.”

“The day I tell Karma any confidential information is the day Hell freezes over,” Kiyoshi confirms.

“In that case… I think our secret’s safe with you,” Kayano confirms.

And with their much more important secret prepared as well, they’re ready for tomorrow.

* * *

Nagisa’s antsy all throughout the next day. When Makoto peeks his head into the classroom that morning Nagisa makes sure to wish him a happy birthday, but is careful to keep the real surprise for later. He’s beaming the whole day. And it’s not hard to tell he’s in an even better mood than usual. The moment he slides into his seat he's whispering excitedly to his friends that he’s now thirteen.

By the time tutoring’s rolled around, Nagisa can’t help but wonder what the others are doing right now. Surely, they’re getting prepared. He’d left Karma, Kayano and Gakushuu in charge of getting ready. Hell, by now Kiyoshi’s probably at the spot, too. He’d sent his parents a message and informed them he’d be staying over at Nagisa’s place for the day. The pieces have fallen into place.

A quick math and language lesson later, and Nagisa suggests packing up early for the day. “We’ve gone over some awfully difficult topics today, after all.” 

Fumiko, in on their little scheme, quickly nods and agrees. Makoto, none-the-wiser, and always an advocate for cutting a math lesson short, says that sounds like a plan.

They pack up their things, Makoto grabbing his bags, and Fumiko carefully folding her scarf and PE gear before storing them in her desk. Nagisa slings his ratty binder under his arm and they’re on their way.

There’s this almost  _ giddy  _ feeling as they walk. They chat about mundane things, but Fumiko’s eyes keep flickering towards Nagisa. He glances towards Makoto, then back towards her and gives her a reassuring wink. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to keep a secret that feels  _ good.  _

Before they know it, they’re home. Nagisa unlocks the door and motions the kids in. Fumiko quickly steps into the house, but Makoto hesitates, squinting at the darkened doorway.

...The windows are drawn, and the lights in the house are off.

Nagisa places a hand on his shoulder and guides him into the living room. He asks what’s going on, and Nagisa reassures him it’ll all make sense in a minute. Fumiko, who’s trailing ahead of them, pauses and turns to snidely ask if he’s afraid of the dark.

“Of- Of course not!” he refutes. “I’m just confused.”

It’s only then he notices the faint glow coming from the kitchen. He takes one step forward, then another.

He must make out the silhouettes, because he bursts into a run.

The moment he steps foot into the room, they’re prepared. A familiar chorus of voices breaks out into song. And Nagisa and Fumiko hurry to join them.

_ “Happy birthday to you _

_ Happy birthday to you _

_ Happy birthday dear Makoto _

_ Happy birthday to you.” _

By the time they reach Makoto’s side the song has pretty much ended. But they’d made sure to join in on the chorus from behind. Makoto stands stiff, his eyes transfixed on the beautiful glow illuminating from the center of the table.

_ ‘It’s… Breathtaking,’  _ Nagisa notes.

Thirteen candles. For thirteen years of life. Thirteen years of Makoto Himura. Thirteen years of one of the kindest and most thoughtful people he’s had the pleasure of meeting. Thirteen years of Korosensei’s second chance, and thirteen years that Nagisa hadn’t even been aware.

In that way, it’s almost sad. Thirteen years lost. But… It’s selfish to think of it that way. Because they haven’t been lost. They were thirteen years spent building the boy who stands in front of him. Shaping his world and his experiences. Thirteen years of good and bad times… Thirteen years leading up to this moment… And thirteen years that seem to say “Here’s to thirteen more.”

Makoto doesn’t move. He stands shock-still, his mouth agape. And Nagisa can’t help but wonder if he’s lost in another moment, too. That eve on the mountain, and the end of an era…

But then he catches a glint of tears in the candlelight, streaming down Makoto’s face… Senses a different sort of relief… And something tells him this belongs entirely to ‘now.’

Finally, Makoto finds his words.

“I… I…” he sputters. “Thank you!” 

He reaches up to wipe at his eyes and he holds back a laugh. It’s a bittersweet, delighted thing. He stares at the cake and says thank you. Once. Then twice. Then a third time. Nagisa stares too, and has to wonder… Has no-one ever done this for him before? Has no-one ever looked at Makoto and thought ‘he deserves this moment?’ It makes him indignant. And it makes him sad. And it makes him feel weirdly honored, too.

...Because as mad as he is it’s come to this, he’s thankful to be the one who can finally tell Makoto he’s deserved this all along.

“Thank you!” He says it again and again. Slowly his shock fades and he bounces from foot to foot. He turns his head, quickly meets the eyes of everyone in the room, and thanks them as loud as he can.

“Don’t thank us yet,” Karma says. It’s only now that Nagisa processes he’s sitting on the table. He reaches towards his pocket, his wicked grin almost  _ haunting  _ in the candlelight. “We still need to  **_party,_ ** after all!”

The moment he says ‘party’ a familiarly loud pop echoes through the room. And this time it’s not just Nagisa who jolts.

The whole room stands shock-still. Then Makoto slams his hands on the table and shouts.

“You bought me a  _ gun!? _ ” he declares, half-ecstatic, half-bewildered.

Karma wheezes in response. “No! No!” he says, struggling to catch his breath through his laughter. “I didn’t buy you a  _ gun!”  _ he clarifies. He motions towards Gakushuu and asks him to flick on the light, to which Gakushuu obliges. And now bathed in light, Karma waves something bright and colorful in front of his face. He retrieves another from his pocket and pulls it back with another obnoxious pop and a flash of confetti.

...Oh. A party popper. For once in their lives that makes more sense than a shotgun.

“Where did you even  _ get  _ those?” Gakushuu asks.

“eBay,” Karma matter of factly answers, before turning to Makoto. “You wanna screw around with them? I got a whole box full.”

“The cake-” Kayano interjects, her voice dripping with a desperation that says ‘I don’t want to go deaf at age 30.’ “Let’s focus on the cake first.”

That redirects Makoto’s attention. His eyes drift back over to the cake and his jaw drops. It had been hard to make out in the dim light, but now Korosensei’s face shines clear as day. Makoto glances at it, then at Nagisa, then back at the cake.

“It… it has…” He mumbles. He gives Nagisa a stunned look. “Did you make this!?”

Nagisa smiles. “Everyone did.”

“I cracked the eggs,” Karma makes sure to add on.

“It was Fumiko’s idea, though,” Nagisa admits.

Fumiko had been insistent on Makoto knowing her role in planning the party. But now that the moment’s come, she seems almost bashful. She averts her gaze and scoffs. “It was only the right thing to do.”

That bashfulness doesn’t stop Makoto for a minute. He whirls around to face her and picks her up in a hug. “Thank you so much, Fumiko!” 

She lets out a tiny squeak. Struggling to wiggle out of his grip, but failing and accepting she’s just gonna have to deal with his embrace for now. Slowly her shy frown melts into a satisfied smile. “Don’t thank me too much,” she huffs. “It was simply… A thanks for you commemorating my own birthday.”

Makoto giggles. “I guess you’re right! Now we’re even!” He places Fumiko down and balls his fists. “Now I just gotta do even better next year! No eating part of your cake! Not after you made such a wonderful one for me!”

“You say that like I’m  _ not  _ intending to try at least a slice of this.”

Karma cocks an eyebrow. “Unless you  _ don’t  _ intend to share, Makoto.”

“N-No!” Makoto sputters, his face flushing red. “Y- You can have all the cake you want! I’d hate to be greedy on my birthday! But before we dig in…” 

He rushes to hug everyone in the room, giving each a quick ‘thanks’ as he squeezes them as tight as he can. Kiyoshi lets out a pathetic wheeze and Kayano picks Makoto up in a hug before he can get the chance to even attempt to lift her, but a few quick hugs later and he’s ready. He skids to a stop in front of the cake, bouncing up and down as he demands a piece.

“You’re that excited to slice open Sensei’s face?” Karma asks.

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! It’s practically my job to get Sensei’s face sliced open!” Makoto grins and makes grabby hands in Karma’s direction. “Let me cut the cake! Let me cut the cake!”

“If you’re so insistent…” Karma says, reaching for the drawer. But Kayano beats him to it. She grabs a knife and slides it his way. Gakushuu begins to gather plates in the meantime. 

Nagisa takes a seat, as does Fumiko. Makoto excitedly sits down and pushes his chair in over and over until his chest is pressed right up against the table. Karma finally gets down from the table and takes a seat. Gakushuu finishes passing out the plates and takes his spot next to Kayano.

Makoto brandishes the knife and cuts himself a massive slice. Nagisa asks him if he’s sure he can eat all that as he hauls it onto his plate, but he nods with conviction.

“This is nothing!” he says. “Hell, I’ll probably go for seconds!” 

He passes the knife towards Fumiko, who cuts herself a notably smaller piece. She passes it to Kayano and so on and so on. Finally, the blade comes to Nagisa, and as morbid as it is to slice apart his Sensei’s face, he can’t help but laugh, either.

And to his surprise… It’s delicious. He’s not sure how he’d expected his efforts to turn out, but they’d been far from futile. Losing his cake-baking virginity hadn’t exactly gone as planned (For one, he’d ended up getting far more help than he’d anticipated…) but he supposes they really have made a good cake for a good kid.

The festivities commence. They devour the cake and chat. Karma retrieves the shipment of party poppers and Makoto causes a ruckus. At least until Fumiko reaches across the table to slap one out of his hands. 

“Hey! That’s no way to treat the birthday boy!” Makoto huffs.

“And  _ that, _ ” Fumiko says, motioning to the party popper now laying defeated on the table, “is no way to treat your hostess.”

Needless to say, Karma capitalizes on this opportunity and pops a good half-a-dozen more. But the one thing he hadn’t accounted for in his equation is that Fumiko is willing to lean across the table to smack him, too.

Ten minutes and forty party poppers into the party, Gakushuu confiscates the box. He says Karma can have them back when he “Learns to fucking behave himself.”

“Don’t tell  _ me  _ that! They’re my gift to him. Are you really willing to steal from an innocent child?”

“Yes,” Gakushuu says without a second of hesitation. He turns to a pouting Makoto. “You can have them back the moment you’re exiting my house. No sooner, no later.”

Makoto shrugs. “I can work with that.” He pauses. “Oh! Oh! I’m gonna bring them to school!”

Nagisa’s head is spinning, but he doesn’t have the heart to turn his idea down. Steeling himself for his upcoming migraine, he smiles and says. “Well, you’re gonna have to wait til’ summer is over for that, but I’d love to see you try to utilize them in assassination.”

“I will! I will!”

“Oh boy…” Kiyoshi murmurs.

It takes him a hot minute, but Makoto finishes his massive slice of cake. He’s reaching for another when he freezes and bolts out of his chair.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! I can’t believe myself! I got so excited I almost forgot my own plans for today!” He darts over to where he placed his bag down by the doorway, crouches down, and unzips it. "This was pretty great... But you guys haven't been the only ones with plans!" He’s practically burying his head in the bag as he shuffles through everything, but soon enough he finds what he’s searching for.

He hops up onto his feet and holds out something towards Nagisa. It’s… A small plastic container.

Nagisa reaches to take it and blinks.

“I didn’t realize you guys would be making a cake for me, so I guess this is a little redundant, but I hope you still like it! Happy early birthday!”

“W… What?”

He’d almost forgotten. It  _ is  _ his birthday tomorrow, isn’t it? He’d noted how funny it was their birthdays were so close the first time he’d looked over Makoto’s file. But of course he’d ended up going and forgetting about his own. He’s not exactly an exciting guy.

“I had to make sure to celebrate your birthday, too! I asked Karma and Kayano when it was! And when I learned how close it was to mine, I had to plan  _ something.  _ I knew you’d probably wanna spend your actual birthday with your family, so I decided on mine we could have a joint birthday party! Usually I wouldn’t wanna share, but since you’re my favorite teacher, I don’t mind!”

Nagisa stares. Slowly, he reaches to open the plastic container and finds a slice of cake inside. It’s equally as messy as his own, with uneven edges and messy blue frosting. Vanilla flavored, and just as massive as you’d expect a slice of cake from Makoto to be.

“That’s not all, either! Take a bite! Take a bite! I’ll get the rest.” Makoto kneels back on the floor and resumes digging through his bag.

Nagisa complies. It’s… Sweet.

“This is… This is fant-”

_ “Uhuhuh-”  _ Makoto interjects. “Don’t thank me yet! I gotta get the rest!” He yanks something out of his bag and thrusts it towards Nagisa.

A brand new binder, powder blue and already filled to the brim with organizational tabs. Alongside it a six-pack of highlighters, all in obnoxiously bright colors.

“I wasn’t sure what to get you at first, but I decided since you were really passionate about your job I could get you something to help with it! I noticed your binder was really really beat up, so I figured you could use a new one! And I don’t know if you already have highlighters, but this is the  _ best _ brand. So I hope you like them!”

It takes Nagisa a moment to find his words. He gulps. “...Makoto, you didn’t need to get me anything.”’

Makoto gives him a curious look. “I know,” he says, squinting. “But I wanted to, silly!" He pauses, and quickly shakes his head. "I bought it all with my own money, so no stealing, if that's what you're worried about! I know it’s not a lot… But I hope you like it. Consider it fifteen birthday gifts in one!”

_ Hopes he likes it?  _ Of course he likes it! To think Makoto’s thought about his own birthday more than him… He has to blink back tears. He carefully places the binder, the highlighters and the cake on the table, before standing and motioning to wrap Makoto in a hug. 

Makoto beats him to it. Gives him a bear hug and refuses to let go. Suddenly Nagisa understands why Kiyoshi had wheezed earlier. But he can’t find it in himself to let go, even when Makoto’s cutting off his airflow.

“I love it, Makoto. Thank you so,  _ so  _ much.”

Makoto nods excitedly and finally lets go. He returns to his seat, kicking his feet in the air. “I knew you would!”

It takes all of Nagisa’s strength to resist bursting into tears right here and now. To take a moment that was meant entirely for him and reaching out to share… It’s the most familiar thing Makoto could have done.

“Geez. Now I almost feel bad I didn’t get you anything…” Kiyoshi sheepishly admits.

“No! Don’t worry about that, either!” Makoto huffs. “It can be from all of us!”

“No, no. Don’t listen to him, Kiyoshi,” Karma says. “If you really want, you can always send us a Paypal invoice at-”

Nagisa reaches a hand to cover his mouth. “Just thinking about me at all is enough,” he says. “Today’s  _ Makoto’s  _ birthday. So let’s celebrate him, okay? You can ignore Karma.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry,” Kiyoshi replies. “As a rule of thumb, I always ignore what Karma’s saying.”

“Good call,” Gakushuu comments.

“ _ Great  _ call,” Fumiko agrees.

Sick of being dragged while so vulnerable and speechless Karma licks Nagisa’s hand for the second time this week. He yanks it away in disgust, sending him an exhausted look. Karma stretches, gives a quick ‘gee, thanks, guys,’ then turns Nagisa’s way.

“If we’re celebrating Nagisa’s birthday already… Well… I hadn’t wanted to spoil this early, but you wanna see what we got?”

“You really don’t need t-”

“Yes yes yes!” Makoto shouts. “Show us! Show us!”

Karma grins and whips something out of his pocket. It takes Nagisa a moment to process it, but he quickly realizes they’re tickets. Tickets for the  _ Sonic Ninja reboot. _

“W-What!?” Nagisa sputters. “How!? The reboot’s not even out in  _ America  _ yet! How did you manage to find a local showing!?”

“Let’s just say… In between Kayano’s connections, Gakushuu’s influence, and my… Sonic Ninja expertise we managed to pull a few strings. It’s at six. What do you say? Wanna go be completely self-indulgent tomorrow?”

Nagisa practically melts. He grins, nods, and says “You know I do.”

Makoto’s bouncing in his seat. “You gotta tell me how it is! I hope it’s good!”

Karma flashes another ticket in the air. “I grabbed extra just in case. You wanna come with?”

Makoto pauses. He thinks it over, but shakes his head. “...I wouldn’t wanna ruin your sappy moment. It’s your birthday, after all.”

Nagisa frowns. “Makoto… You wouldn’t ruin  _ anything.  _ You were willing to take time out of your birthday to share with me. I’d be  _ honored  _ to take time out of mine and share with you. You’re always welcome to spend time with us.”

Makoto tries to keep a straight face, but his expression quickly melts into a grin as well. “...I’d like that.”

“It’s a plan, then.”

They try inviting Fumiko and Kiyoshi as well, but Fumiko’s understandably busy, and Kiyoshi says his mom will be home so he wants to spend the night with her. After that, with their plan in place, the rest of the afternoon flies by. Against their better judgment, they end up devouring more than half of the cake, and everyone feels a little bit sick by the time evening rolls around. 

“I guess that’s a no on dinner?”

“I guess that’s a no on dinner.”

Makoto helps Nagisa transport everything from his old binder to his new one. In the meantime Karma unearths the party poppers, much to everyone’s horror. Nagisa comes to the faint realization that he’s going to need to vacuum up all of this confetti sooner or later, but can’t bring himself to care.

They pop on a movie and chill on the couch. At least until Karma gets his hands on paper towel rolls and ends up finally sells everyone on his idea of starting an impromptu fencing tourney. So maybe they don’t exactly pay attention to the movie, but Nagisa does get to see Fumiko whip Karma with a paper towel roll, so he doesn’t have any complaints.

...Yeah. Things are good.

And with his birthday fast approaching… Surrounded by laughing family… His mind keeps drifting back to one thing:

His sensei is alive. And his sensei is the same. And that makes it the best early birthday of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 14! Chapter 14!
> 
> Sorry this one's a bit late. I'm sick and my beta had to get surgery, so things have been crazy for the both of us lately. But it's finally here! This is another one I've been looking forward to, so I'm happy to get it out!
> 
> Mostly a fluffy chapter, but I know ya'll love yourselves some fluff, and what is a slice of life fic without some wholesome birthday based fluff, anyways?
> 
> This is probably the part where I should admit /I've/ never baked a cake. Many thanks to the numerous cake baking tutorials I found online, none of which (Thankfully) had actual anecdotes about dead fathers. I don't know what absolute wack ass recipe website Nagisa ended on, but here's the part where I promise the websites I used were incredibly helpful and did not dump their traumatic experiences on me.
> 
> If you need any proof of just how inexperienced at baking I am, the little stand joke came from personal experience as well. I barged into my server's Discord channel and was like "WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT THING YOU PUT A CAKE ON?" to which all of my friends were like "ITS A FUCKING STAND, SACK?" Good times. Either way I decided to project some of my dumbassery on poor Nagisa.
> 
> I had a lot of fun with the actual little 'party,' even if I don't have a lot to say about it! It's a scene with a lot of heart, and I hope ya'll enjoyed it as much as I did! There's nothing I love more than seeing this lil ragtag found family have sweet moments together.
> 
> To be truthful I only actually listened to two songs while writing this chapter. Those being Happy Birthday To My Loose Acquaintance by Garfunkel and Oates, and... Cooking by The Book from Lazytown. Needless to say neither of those was actually particularly helpful for writing, but it sure was an experience! You haven't lived until you write, in half-dissociative state, at 3am in the morning, to the sound of Cooking by The Book. Because that's how I spend my time! Summer loving having a blast!
> 
> I dunno if the next chapter will be up in a week or two. I know I promised more quick updates for a lil bit, but like I said: Things have been CRAZY for me and my beta. So please be patient! Thank you! And hey: If it does end up taking two weeks that extends the POPULARITY POLL by a little bit! Reminder that that's still open and looking for votes! So far Fumiko has 5, Kiyoshi has 3, Kayano has 1, and Nagisa, Gakushuu, Karma, and Makoto have a whopping 0. So if you want to tip the scales, let me know who your favorite is!
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Make sure to let me know what you think, and I'll have the next chapter up as soon as possible! o7


	15. Sports Festival Time

Summer goes swimmingly. Needless to say, Nagisa continues to tutor Fumiko and Makoto throughout it, telling the Hisakawas that his services are year-round and saying absolutely nothing to the Himuras because he still can’t get in contact with them in the first place. He enjoys his impromptu birthday surprise, and two weeks later even joins his spouses for a quick trip to the beach. Yes... Summer is grand, but summer is over in the blink of an eye. And before anyone knows it, it’s time to return to school.

Nagisa thinks he might be the only person in the world excited for that. Of course he’d checked up on his students throughout the vacation, but he can't wait to get to see them again in person. He’s had all of those six weeks to brainstorm exactly what lessons he wants to tackle next, and by the tail end of summer, he’s almost anxious to get back.

Kayano helps him transport the animals back to the building and Nagisa makes sure to do a quick tidying up before September 3rd rolls around. He even tests the stability of the roof like he’s been meaning to and decides it seems sturdy enough. Maybe on some lazy day he’ll hold a study session up there. There’s nothing better than a change of pace.

And soon enough, the third is here. Admittedly it puts a bit of a nervous feeling in his gut, but it's nothing like what he’d felt before the school year began. He knows his kids by now. And he knows they like him. He thinks he knows how to do what’s best for them, and he’s excited to see them again. Admittedly he’d enjoyed the time off, but there’s nothing much that Nagisa loves more than his job. (Well, except his spouses, of course. But that’s a given.)

He walks into school with a hum, with his brand new binder slung under his shoulder. Admittedly it's much lighter and  _ much  _ more organized than his previous one. And he hopes to keep it that way. He paces for a bit and even reorganizes some things, but soon sits down and decides all he can do is wait for the students to arrive.

One by one they pour in. The ceremonious Haruhi Nozara, and after her, Rikuto, who apparently is only showing up early to discuss extra credit for the trimester that just ended.

Nagisa pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll… See what I can do.”

Kaya Tomaya. Yoshito Akira. Rin Arakawa and the Hisoka twins. There’s this clear sort of exhaustion to them all. And he gets it. Summer vacation just ended, after all. No matter how cool your school is,  _ no-one  _ is excited to go back at first. But he hopes he can wipe the unenthused expressions from their faces sooner rather than later.

Kiyoshi rolls in at exactly 8 O’Clock, and with him Fumiko. They’re already engrossed in some sort of conversation, and although Kiyoshi interrupts to give Nagisa a quick hello, they’re soon back to their thing. It’s a far cry from the Kiyoshi who had shown up two hours early and completely alone at the start of the year.

...He’s making good progress.

And as the minutes pass, the rest of the students arrive. Soon it seems everyone has clocked in. Well… Except for one person, of course.

_ Don’t tell him Makoto is going to be late on the first day of the trimester  _ **_again._ **

It makes him worry. He knows Makoto’s wildly fluctuating schedule is likely due to his wildly fluctuating homelife. He’d seen Makoto doing just fine yesterday, but he knows things can change in the blink of an eye when it comes to situations like that. He hopes everything is alright…

He’s nervously eyeing the clock as it ticks down to 8:30 when the door  _ bursts  _ open.

Makoto makes his entrance, a skip in his step. Says something about how he’d be sorry for being late, except he’s  _ not.  _ He pumps his fist in the air proudly, then takes his seat in front of Kiyoshi. He nods firmly, as if giving Nagisa permission to start the day.

_ A-Ah!? Since when had he needed  _ **_permission!?_ **

Nonetheless, Makoto is right. He’s _ technically  _ not late, and it’s not as if Nagisa would get on him even if he were. With the whole class gathered, it’s finally time to begin the second trimester.

He welcomes them back to the school and asks them about their summers. Before they get down to the nitty gritty boring stuff, he’s delighted to hear how they’ve been. Chiharu ended up getting a summer job and Kazuki had done some public service work at his sister’s behest. Rosey had gone skydiving, a phrase in and of itself that practically gives Nagisa a heart attack, and Makoto brags about having the best birthday ever.

Once he’s given them all some time to share (More time than he’d like to admit) the school day begins for real. They discuss who will be the class representatives for this trimester and settle on Riko and Komoshi. They very briefly review some old concepts, before Nagisa asks them if they want to participate in what he knows they’re  _ really  _ here for.

“First assassination of the trimester?”

A cheer echoes throughout the room.

_ Maybe summer's end isn’t as boring as the kids thought it was.  _

* * *

Slowly but surely things settle back into a routine. A week passes by, and then another. But never one to let things grow stale, Nagisa knows the ushering in of the second trimester means it’s time for a yearly event. And as mid-September creeps up on them, that means it’s time for the sports festival to begin.

He gives the announcement a week before: Explaining to the kids in homeroom what he’s devised. The Capture The Flag meets Paintball meets Cops and Robbers concept, that is. It’s no pole toppling competition, but it sure is... Something, alright. By the time he’s done every kid in the class is staring at him like he’s out of his goddamn mind.

“Capture The Flag… Meets… Paintball… Meets Cops and Robbers…  _ Tourney style? _ ” Yoshito says, utter disbelief in his voice.

“Not all at once!” Nagisa says. “At least… Not immediately.” He pauses. “We’ll be starting with the individual games. And slowly but surely we’ll integrate them until we have an… Ideally fully functional game of our own. I’ll be keeping track of your victories as the competition and various games continue, alongside assassination attempts and competitions. All in all this week will be greatly action-focused. And while yes, of course, you’ll still be working, PE periods will be extended. I figured you could all use some fresh air after being stuffed up in a building for so long immediately after summer's end.”

Minki’s hand shoots in the air.

“Yes, Minki?”

“Do we  _ have  _ to still work?”

_ “Yes, _ Minki.”

“Why?”

“Because this is a school, Minki.”

She pouts but shrugs. “Fair.”

“Where was I?” Nagisa says. “Oh right: At the end of the week whoever has the most ‘points’ will face off against each other in one final game of Capture The Robbers Paintball, where they’ll rally and lead their classmates.  Whoever ends up leading their team to success will be crowned the victor.”

It’s Rikuto’s turn to raise a hand. “Crowned? That’s all?” He rolls his eyes. “Lameeee.” 

Nagisa stares. Since when has an honest competition against their peers not been enough to motivate kids!?

“I’ll also get the winner a bowl of candy,” he improvises.

That changes Rikuto’s tone in an instant. Kids who seemed hesitant before are on board now, excitedly whispering to their friends. And even those who had already been psyched for the event are now more on their A-Game than ever. Is that really all it took?

Oh. Right. They’re twelve. Of course that’s all it took.

“Well now I’ve  _ gotta  _ win,” Makoto brags.

Fumiko rolls her eyes at him. Then, ever diligent, raises her hand.

“Yes, Fumiko?”

“That’s not tourney-style.”

“Pardon?”

“That’s, by definition, not tourney-style. Tourney-style would involve eliminations, but those aren’t a part of the process you’ve described. Your game falls under the category of point style.”

Nagisa’s face flushes as he quickly realizes she’s right. Oh man… He’d just been trying to toss big words together to sound impressive, hadn’t he? Er - Not that ‘tourney’ is a particularly big word, but it sounds cooler than ‘point!’

“You’re correct,” he admits. “Point style it is.”

Fumiko smirks. “Much better.”

Makoto’s hand shoots in the air. He doesn’t even wait for Nagisa to call his name. “I have an idea!” he pipes up. “If we’re going to be competing against and scheming against each other, we should try to keep some…” He pauses. “A… Anonymity.” He stumbles over the word once or twice, but finally manages to pronounce it correctly. “We need a secret way to communicate with our teammates.”

It takes Nagisa a moment to get what he’s going on about. But slowly it dawns on him, and as if reading his mind, Makoto grins.

“What do you think about code names?”

“I think that sounds  _ wonderful.” _

He opens submissions for code names throughout the week. And as the days lead up to the competition, students come to suggest nicknames for their friends and acquaintances alike. The Friday before the week of the competition the kid draw their code names and stare.

“Who named me ‘Closet Furry!?’” Hachirou hisses.

“Long Lost Member of The Black Parade?” Yoshito repeats. “...Real funny, guys.”

“Sk8er boy!?” Rikuto demands. “Who’s responsible for this!?”

“Lesbian Icon!? Well, I’m not sure I’d call myself an  _ icon... _ ” Kiku says with a blush.

“Thing Two!? Where’s Thing O-” Emiko’s gaze meets Kazuki’s and falls. “...Of course.”

Makoto’s little trio sits gathered round the back of the class, in utter disbelief as they go over their own newly-acquired code names.

“Why did you think this was a good idea, Makoto?” Fumiko groans.

“I thought they’d come up with something funny!”

“Is this funny to you!?” Fumiko asks, shoving her slip of paper in his face. “Token Woman! Who even came up with that!?”

Kiyoshi shies back and Fumiko’s head whips around.

**_“Was this you!?”_ **

_  “I just think it’s weird that friend groups are always organized like this!” _ Kiyoshi squeals.  _ “Think about it! _ With Shiota-sensei’s friend group from back in the day, too! Why’s there only ever one girl!? It feels like a badly written manga!” He covers his face and trembles. “I didn’t think he’d actually draw my nickname...!” he murmurs, voice full of shame. “I’m sorry, Fumiko…”

“I wouldn’t sweat it,” Makoto admits. “It’s all in good fun, right? Plus, it can’t be much worse than the one you got.”

Kiyoshi hangs his head. “Who thought it was okay to call me White Bread…?”

Matsuya, for the record. Nagisa has no doubt that one’s from Matsuya. And it’s far from the worst name Kiyoshi could have obtained. Among the many, many, many submissions for him, Nagisa had had to discard most of them. The ‘Quivering Pussy’ from Kazuki had been far too mean spirited and a little too lewd to put a middle schooler through. The “Irina and Karasuma Finally Did The Dirty,” From Makoto isn’t a name in the first place. And various jokes about his heterochromia such as “Hetty” or “Black and Blue” seemed anything from blatantly misleading about his romantic orientation to a desperate cry for help.

White Bread will have to do.

“What did you get, Makoto?” Fumiko finally asks.

He grins. “Only the coolest code name ever!”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

He holds his slip of paper out proudly. “Take a gander, then!”

Both Fumiko and Kiyoshi do a double-take.

“Prince of the WHAT?” Fumiko murmurs.

“That is  _ utter gibberish,”  _ Kiyoshi adds on.

“Prince of The Fateful Eternal Wind!” Makoto huffs. “It’s cool and it makes  _ loads  _ of sense!”

“Who even  _ submitted  _ that?” Fumiko asks.

Makoto gives a lazy shrug. “Hell if I know.”

Okay. So  _ maybe  _ Nagisa had cheated a little and submitted one or two himself. But can you blame him!?

Regardless of his friends’ teasing, Makoto carries the name with pride. Nagisa’s not sure if he recognizes it as a nickname of his own creation, but he appreciates it nonetheless. It’s just so weird and ridiculous and a little narcissistic and… Him.

It’s funny. Back when Korosensei had asked for a name like that they’d scoffed at him. It had been annoying and inane and a little pathetic. Just like Korosensei himself. He’d been a desperately obnoxious person, with goofy energies so irritating he was almost impossible to take seriously. But after losing him… It was hard not to realize even the most obnoxious parts of him were something they missed. It wasn’t just about the perfect teacher, who always knew what to do. It was about the small moments, and the annoying ones, too. It’s hard not to miss  _ all of  _ someone, even their perceived flaws.

...So… With the need for ‘missing’ over and done with, Nagisa figures he deserves to be a prince this time around.

Also it’d be a little low brow to nickname the thirteen-year-old boy “Octopus of the Idiodic Perverted Chicken.”

‘Eternal’ seems pretty damn right at this point, anyways.

Finally, the much-anticipated week rolls around. Nagisa gathers the students and divides them into teams for their first game of Cops and Robbers. But before they can begin, being the sappy bastard he is, there are a few words he needs to say.

“Okay!” He begins with a clap. “Welcome to our own little sports festival! I hope you’re as excited for this as I am, and that you all have a good time. Because that’s what this is about. The games you are about to participate in aren’t necessarily about winning. The last thing I want you thinking is that your worth should depend on arbitrary abilities to accomplish certain things when the world we live in is so vast. What this is truly about is pushing yourself to your limits. As long as you fight as hard as you can, it doesn’t matter to me who takes home the ‘victory.’ I know you’re all capable of amazing things, and I hope this is an opportunity for you to not only work with your classmates, but unearth new skills you never realized you’d had before. I hope you all have a wonderful time, and may the…” 

Nagisa pauses. 

“May the fairest player win.”

* * *

Kiyoshi isn’t sure what he’d expected when Nagisa had mentioned a sports festival, but this wasn’t it.

Here’s the thing. He’s… Not… Super… Athletic. Sometimes it feels like he should be considering his dad is built like a brick shithouse, but he’s most certainly not. The best he can accomplish is managing to throw someone if he grabs them just right, but that’s not exactly allowed in Cops and Robbers.

At least… Not if you’re a cop. Is that allowed if you’re a robber? It  _ sounds _ sufficiently illegal.

Huh… Cops and Robbers where the Robbers can break the rules. Now that sounds like a fucking nightmare! Here’s to hoping Nagisa never comes up with THAT one.

Fumiko’s standing next to him, but her eyes are trained on the woods. She’s surprisingly diligent about this sort of thing. But it’s nice to have her by his side, even if he’s a tad bummed their teammates had relegated them to guards due to their absolutely abysmal stamina.

Nagisa had said next round if they wanted they could take more offensive positions, but Kiyoshi instantly felt his gut cramp at the idea of having to run and turned his offer down.

Plus! It’s not like they have nothing to do. A fair number of their competitors have already been caught. ‘Long Lost Member of The Black Parade’ anxiously paces around the perimeter of the jail, and 'Carl's Jr.' is flopped down on the ground, seemingly already having given up on the concept of ‘exercising.’

A shifting noise comes from the woods. Kiyoshi’s head turns, but he quickly realizes it’s fellow cop “The All-Seeing Alchemist” bringing “Pikachuphobe” into custody.

...Fucking hell. He hates these names. Just call them Rin and Misaki, for Pete’s sake!

Fumiko helps  _ Rin  _ usher  _ Misaki  _ into jail. Rin gives a quick thanks, then rushes back into the forest.

Misaki pouts and sticks her tongue out, but stays put. She doesn’t seem too particularly bothered by her newfound imprisonment. Kiyoshi gets it. As much as loss stings, her lungs must sting even more from attempting to evade her classmates. This is a welcome opportunity to catch her breath.

Another rustle comes from the woods... And then they fall silent. Fumiko and Kiyoshi exchange a hesitant glance, wondering if it’s simply their ears playing tricks on them. Then something - Or  _ someone -  _ Darts out of the underbrush.

Kiyoshi hardly even processes what he’s doing. But before he can stop himself he’s barrelling towards the perpetrator. And in an instant, they’re on the ground.

He freezes, panting for breath, before locking eyes with the poor kid he’s tackled. He has to hold back a laugh.

_ “Makoto!?” _

Makoto doesn’t even  _ try  _ to stifle his own laugh. “Kiyoshi!?” he asks through snickers. “I didn’t know you were so strong!”

_ “Me neither!” _

Fumiko’s approaching quick. “What was  _ that? _ ” she asks.

“I don’t know!” Kiyoshi sputters with embarrassment, quickly releasing his pin on Makoto. He starts to stand, but Makoto grabs his wrist with a stern frown.

“What are you doing!?” he asks.

“What are  _ you _ doing!?” Kiyoshi squeals, attempting to rip his hand away.

“Put me in jail, moron! Don’t let me escape so easily!”

_ Oh. OH! _

He’d been so caught up in the euphoria (And mild horror) of besting his friend that he’d forgotten they were actually in the middle of a game. He hauls Makoto to his feet and shoves him into the ‘jail.’

“There we go,” Makoto says. “Good job.”

“Eh. It’s whatever.” 

“Don’t engage with the criminals, Kiyoshi,” Fumiko reminds him with a smirk.

“Oh, wait. Of course,” Kiyoshi says, slowly returning his own.

“Hey! Wait! What!? Don’t ignore me!” Makoto demands.

“I better see you display that same kind of gutsiness next time someone else tries to free the prisoners,” Fumiko says, ignoring him.

“You just think I looked funny tackling people,” Kiyoshi replies.

“Maybe so.”

**_“GUYS!”_ **

The rest of the PE period seems to fly by. And by the end of it, just barely, the Cops take home the victory, giving one point to each member. Kiyoshi can’t help but feel he hadn’t helped much, but when his teammates slap his back and tell him ‘good job,’ he has to reconsider.

* * *

Okay! So  _ maybe  _ Makoto’s not good with  _ game- _ games, but he’s good at assassination! He swears! Hell! He’s not  _ good! _ He’s  _ great! _

Something seems to overtake his body the moment he steps onto the battlefield. Acutely aware of his heart pounding, he can hear the every breath of his opponent... Can analyze the way they move and pinpoint their weaknesses... Like the very blood running through his veins, the battlefield is laid out so clearly before him.

How could it not? He  _ had  _ been the teacher of the assassination classroom, after all.

He’d honed their skills perfectly. And it seems with every memory he’s honing his own.

So for the love of God! Why is Nagisa so hard to even get a hit on!?

In a weird way, he should be proud. The way Nagisa sidesteps his every movement seems to imply he’d succeeded in some way. That he’d turned Nagisa into a truly impressive adult who knows how to protect himself. And he is proud! He swears! But now is not the time for pride, because all he wants to do is  **_kick Nagisa’s ass!_ **

It’s not that he has a competitive streak, either! Sure, Makoto really, really, really, really,  _ really _ wants to win the sports festival, but he’s not gonna be down in the dumps if he doesn’t. What he  _ really  _ wants is that candy!  _ And how can he know whoever wins will share!?  _ He’s gotta try, or his sweet tooth will never forgive him!

He’d already been on the losing side of the Cops and Robbers game. And now that it’s come to one on one assassination attempts against Nagisa he needs to be on his A-game if he wants to stand a chance. 

He clutches the blade and makes a blow. It’s well-aimed. In any other world, it would feel  _ precise.  _ But Nagisa blocks it with his elbow, quickly taking a step back.

Makoto makes another attempt. But this time he misses entirely, the blade just barely whooshing past Nagisa’s ribcage. And by the time he tries to turn the blade to drive it into Nagisa’s chest, it’s too late. Nagisa sidesteps and stays just barely out of range. With each precise step Makoto takes forward, he takes an equally precise step back.

This is way harder than it has any right to be. Assassination is hardly about one on one battle. It’s about the element of surprise! It’s about appearing non-threatening and defying expectations. But with Nagisa, he doesn’t have that luxury.

It’s no fair! Nagisa already knows all the cool shit he can do!

“One minute left,” Riko says, stopwatch in hand.

Bluh! The five-minute rule sucks, too. He  _ gets  _ it. If Nagisa faced all his students for hours on end, he’d have no time to teach. There’s so many of them! But  _ Makoto  _ had let his students try to assassinate him all day! During the Sports Festival Nagisa should do that, too!

Which given a single moment of thought is  _ ridiculous  _ to ask of him! But gah! Makoto is no good with pressure!

“C’mon. You can do it,” Nagisa says, voice dripping with sincerity.

_ Come on, Makoto! He’s seen what you can do! So show him something worthwhile! _

He darts in for a strike, but Nagisa dodges it with ease. There’s this total calm to him. Like he’s seen it all before. And he has. But it’s something more than that. Nagisa can stay composed in even the most tense of moments. Like it’s built into his very core. And somehow, Makoto has to wonder if that’s an asset, too.

...No. He doesn’t have to wonder. He knows,

In an instant, he’s in another world. It’s the dead of night, bright spotlights shining overhead. Nagisa stands on a rooftop, body stiff as he faces someone MUCH larger than he is.

Makoto can’t move. It’s as if he’s rooted in one spot. And for a moment, he forgets 'Makoto' entirely: Genuine terror rising in his gut.

_ Not now! Not when - Don’t you get it!? If you’re hurt now, I can’t protect you! Just like- _

_...Just like what? _

He doesn’t know. Even as panic claws at his gut, he doesn’t know. And still, he doesn’t let it show. He masks his fear behind a smile. And if Nagisa feels the same fear, he doesn’t let it show, either.

He takes one step forward… Then another, the same calm plastered on his face. And Makoto sees shellshock dawn across his opponent's expression.

Nagisa smiles and he takes a deep breath.

_ What is he doing!?  _

Then, he claps.

The noise rings out across the night, piercing Makoto’s ears. That’s all it takes. Nagisa’s opponent stops in his tracks, sheer terror in his trembling lip.

“Makoto! Are you okay?”

Finally, Nagisa’s voice pierces the haze. And Makoto returns to the world he knows. Nagisa’s staring at him, genuine worry in his eyes.

And Makoto wonders… Wonders just what he’d accomplished.

He doesn’t think it through. He doesn’t need to. He claps his hands together. The world seems to vibrate, and Nagisa freezes in place.

It’s his opportunity! Hardly aware of what he’d even harnessed, Makoto rushes forward. He draws his blade back and he-

“Time’s up.”

Makoto’s heart sinks... And his strike falls to the wayside. Slowly, Nagisa returns to his senses, and he meets Makoto’s eyes.

Suddenly, Makoto feels weirdly ashamed. Like he’d seen something he wasn’t supposed to. He opens his mouth to apologize, but Nagisa speaks first.

“That was incredible!” he says. “A  _ real  _ stun clap.”

...So that’s what it was.

Nagisa continues, beaming with pride. “I didn’t know you knew what that was!”

Quickly, Makoto’s confidence returns. “Yep!” He says with a grin. “I guess you could say I’m a natural.” And someone with a cosmically unfair advantage, but that’s beyond the point.

“That was a close call. Good work out there, Makoto. I can’t wait to see how you utilize that in the future.” He pauses. “Though I’ll be prepared next time.”

_...Of course he will. Pooie! _

Makoto sits down. Admittedly he’s a little disappointed he’d failed, but he still feels ecstatic at having figured that out. Nagisa’s right. He has a feeling this will be of use in the future.

His classmates gather around, demanding to know what that was! And as Makoto brags, watching Fumiko step forward to face Nagisa next, his heartbeat quickly returns to normal.

He even manages to shake it off. The feeling of terror and grief that had risen in his gut. Because even if it had scared him then, he’s sure it’s nothing now.

* * *

There’s a first for everything, but experiencing Capture The Flag for the first time at age 13 is just sad.

It’s not a new realization. There’s always been this acute awareness in the back of Fumiko’s mind that she hadn’t gotten to experience what other kids her age had. But up until very recently, that had felt like a  _ good  _ thing. She’d been above such childish activities. And she had been for a very long time.

But ever since stepping foot in Nagisa’s classroom… A desperate feeling had devoured her life. Something she hadn’t felt since she was very,  _ very  _ young. A desire to try  _ everything.  _ And it was with Nagisa’s offer that she’d received the opportunity to do so.

...So here she is! First game of Capture The Flag at age 13! A little bit embarrassing, but a little bit exciting, too!

She’s ducking behind a tree, hiding out and listening carefully for any hint of footsteps. At first, she’d planned to remain on the defensive, but her teammates had insisted she’d make a good offensive player. Something-something her small stature would help her go unnoticed. Admittedly, she's a tad sour over being called small at all, but she’d figured the Capture The Flag connoisseurs knew what they were doing. For once in her life, it’s best for her to just take someone else’s orders.

It’s funny. She can’t help but think a few months ago she’d have stuck her nose up at the concept. Being ‘bossed around’ by her classmates at all.  _ She’s  _ the one who should be giving orders. But things are different now. Slowly but surely they’ve come to feel like equals. And suddenly she doesn’t mind a bunch of bratty twelve-year-olds telling her to rush out into the forest and hide under a tree. Because suddenly that’s not gross or demeaning. It’s  _ cool!  _

She waits one more moment, just in case, then darts to the next tree. Presses her back to the bark and listens. She hears shouting in the distance. Had someone else playing it sneaky been caught, or is it simply the unbridled chaos of a wild goose chase?

“Sounds like Strahd Apologist and The Giant Rat Who Makes All of The Rules got tagged, huh?”

Fumiko jolts. She whirls around, and tenses, ready to bolt at any moment. 

But quickly she realizes who it is, and Makoto peeks his head out from behind a tree. A blue bandana is tied around his neck, the same as hers.

...Oh. Yeah. He’s on her team.

“Keep it down!” she hisses, crouching. “How on earth could you tell who got tagged? They’re halfway across the campus.”

Makoto gives a lazy shrug. “I dunno. It was just easy to make out. Strahd Apologist’s scream is super distinct, and The Giant Rat Who Makes All of The Rules has a bit of a lisp.”

Literally all of the gears in Fumiko’s head have to churn for her to make sense of who he’s talking about. She  _ really  _ hates this code name thing. That’s… Riko and Chiharu, right? No. The other way around. Chiharu and Riko.

...Now that he says it, she thinks he’s right. Which is ridiculous. They’re  _ way  _ too far away to make out clearly. But she figures it’s not worth spending too much thought on. Makoto may as well be superhuman with the bullshit he regularly pulls off and trying to deduce how he comes to literally any conclusion ever is just a waste of their precious game time.

“What are you doing here?” she finally whispers. “I thought you headed west?”

“I did originally,” Makoto admits. “But I saw Sk8r Boy and Kiku’s Delivery Service chasing The All-Seeing Alchemist. I didn’t want to get caught up with her, so I figured I’d turn this way. I spotted you and decided to follow after.” He pauses, then salutes. “Hope you don’t mind me tailing you for a bit, Token Woman!”

Fumiko blinks. “First of all: Stop calling me that,” she says. “Second of all, no. I don’t mind. Although I’m not sure that’s the best idea. I  _ really  _ don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“Awww! Come on! Don’t say that,” Makoto replies. “I mean, you’re sneaking around all  _ stealthy-like.  _ It’s better than my plan.”

“Which is?”

“Usually charging at them kicking and screaming.”

“Okay. Yeah. Don’t do that.” Fumiko replies. “But I’ve never really played this game before. So… Like… Don’t pass me off as some expert.”

Makoto shrugs. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think  _ most  _ of us have played before. I don’t think Nagisa would have explained the rules otherwise. So if you think you suck at this, you’re in good company.” He smiles. “Personally it’s been a  _ long  _ time since I’ve done anything like this. That’s why I’m all ‘running and screaming seems like a good plan!’”

“Okay. Again: Don’t do that,” Fumiko says. “But I suppose you have a point. Now that you mention it, everyone has seemed a tad… Novice.”

“You say that like anyone  _ isn’t  _ novice. Do professional Capture The Flag players exist?”

“I sincerely wouldn’t doubt it,” Fumiko replies. “There’s professional  _ everything.  _ I’ve participated in both professional polo and flower arranging myself.”

“Both at once!?” Makoto sputters. "H-How do you get the flowers up on the hor-?"

“No! Not both at once!” Fumiko hisses. “But that’s besides the point. We should be going.”

Makoto nods. “Yeah. Before someone catches us.” 

“I’d reckon it’s a little too late for that,”

Fumiko’s gaze shoots upwards, and she meets eyes with Minki, who sits cross-legged up on a tree. Both she and Makoto freeze, but their opponent is right: It’s far too late. She leaps down from the branch, barreling straight at Makoto.

_ “FUMIKO!  _ **_RUN!”_ **

He doesn’t need to say that twice. She bolts. What was she thinking!? Of course someone had overheard them! It’s not like Makoto knows how to keep his voice down!

There’s no time for sneaking now. Fumiko runs as fast as she can, desperately trying to escape the scrambling of footsteps behind her. A last-ditch effort is all she has! It seems she’s going to have to go in kicking and screaming herself if she wants to stand a chance of stealing that flag!

She bursts out of the underbrush, to the abject horror of the Red team. Their eyes are on her in an instant, but she feverishly tries to ignore their fiery stares and break through their defenses. She shuts her eyes, clenches her fists, and charges.

...Needless to say, she’s caught. Minki tags her from behind, practically toppling her over with the forcefulness. She near-stumbles, but Minki’s careful to grab her hand.

_ “Woah _ there! Don’t go concussing yourself!” she says, panting. 

Fumiko struggles to catch her breath herself. She turns to exchange a glance with Minki, who has to hold back a giggle.

“That was crazy!” she says. “I didn’t know you could run so fast!”

“Me neither,” Fumiko admits. “I guess I just… Got really into it.” She has to stifle a laugh herself. Only now does she realize just how the Red team defense is staring at her. Kiyoshi in particular looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his skull. “I guess you got me, though. Okay, then. Lock me away. I suppose I’ll have to believe in what the rest of my team can do.”

Once more, it’s close. And ultimately Red takes the victory. But still, Fumiko can’t find herself feeling too bummed. Sure, maybe they’d ultimately taken home a loss… But…

Not half bad for her first game of Capture The Flag.

* * *

The further they get into the week, the faster it seems to fly by. At least, for Nagisa.

Each morning his class excitedly steps into class, already prepared for the competition of the day. They compete all morning, return to the classroom for the afternoon, then finish up the day with one more game or tournament. Admittedly at first they always seem disappointed to return to class, but he sees them display an unbridled enthusiasm he’s rarely ever seen from some of them before. Truly, they take the sports festival in stride: Grasping the bull by its horns and facing the week with everything they have.

As the class gets into the routine of the sports festival, however, things don’t just get faster: They get closer and closer, too.

When it comes to facing off against their peers in the first round of ‘Classmate Assassinations,’ Chiharu, Makoto, and in a surprising turn of events  _ Kiyoshi  _ end up taking home a bulk of the points. It’s a close call, but Chiharu’s large stature and stamina, Kiyoshi’s basic self-defense techniques, and Makoto’s having a blatantly unfair advantage due to being a murderoctopus in a past life end up coming in handy.

Paintball’s divided into two teams. Red and Blue, of course. (Nagisa’s quickly realized that’s his default. Perhaps he should come up with something more clever such as ‘Tea versus Coffee’ or even simply ‘Green vs Yellow’ considering it’s bound to grow cliched by this point, but he can’t bring himself to budge. It’s a classic. With a legacy of  _ timeless _ associations such as ‘Kill versus Save,’ ‘That one game that was like Overwatch before Overwatch,’ or ‘Charizard versus Blastoise’ behind it, nothing can quite outmatch his go-to team names.)

Makoto’s hand shoots in the air the moment Nagisa discloses the rules. He asks if they’ll be allowed to use melee weapons in paintball, perhaps utilizing a paintbrush or a knife dipped in paint?

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Kiku exclaims, waving her own hand around. “What about paint buckets!? We could  _ totally  _ use paint buckets!”

“Well that sounds deli-”

“Splatoon,” Kiyoshi interrupts.

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve just reinvented Splatoon.”

Well… Shit. He’s not wrong. 

Ultimately they decide to forgo alternative weapons, namely because Nagisa doesn’t have any of them ready,  _ not  _ because of the Splatoon thing. In fact, he just decides to mark that as a goal for a future Sports Festival.

_ “Make Splatoon real.” _

By the end of the day, Blue team ends up taking home the points. Fumiko and Makoto high-five so hard it leaves a mark, and Emiko offers to help Nagisa clean up the forest, but he declines. He’s sure it’ll be fine.

...It is absolutely not fine. He has to spend hours hosing down the trees. But such is the job of both a teacher and an entrepreneur with dreams of ‘Splatoon Real?’

By the time he’s done, he decides ‘Splatoon Real,’ would be a fucking nightmare, and decides to put that one on the backburner for now.

When it comes to assassinating him as teams, only one group takes home a victory. Although with the newfound power of the stun clap, Makoto’s group puts up a damned good fight, it’s ultimately Chiharu, Rosey, and Hachirou who manage to pull off the third assassination of the year. That’s two points for each.

At the halfway point of the week, he begins to phase the games into each other. Increasingly complicated and increasingly delightful games of Capture The Flag with Paintball, or competitions of Cops and Robbers with assassination worked in. The points continue to climb, with teams changing every time. Everyone fights their hardest. And by the time they’ve made their way to the final game of ‘Cops and Robbers meets Paintball meets Capture the Flag, NOT-tourney style,’ it seems they’re going to have one of two winners.

...Chiharu or Kiyoshi.

It takes Nagisa aback at first, too. He wonders if he’d done the math correctly, but after adding it up again, he’s sure. The highest-scoring, with 12 points each, are Chiharu and Kiyoshi. 

It’s weird. He’d expected someone like the stubborn Yoshito or the brash Makoto to take the lead. And yet he’s met with two of the meekest students in his class having shot for the stars. But as surprising as it is, it feels good, too.

His job really is one surprise after another.

He lets the class know on Thursday afternoon. Says that the two of them will be picking teams of their own Friday morning and facing off against each other in one final competition. He wishes them both the best of luck, says he believes they can do great things, and that he can’t wait to see what they accomplish.

Chiharu and Kiyoshi both stare at him like he’s grown a second head. Kiyoshi asks him if he’s sure he’s not wrong, and Nagisa confirms it. Nonetheless, they shake on it, and Chirharu, with a toothy grin, reassures Kiyoshi he’s sure it’ll be a wonderful final round.

“Just don’t hold back, okay?”

Kiyoshi nervously takes his massive hand. “I won’t.”

They begin Friday. First thing in the morning they pick teams. Nagisa trusts his kids not to leave anyone feeling left out or pick the ‘least skilled’ kid last. They’re better than that. And true to their intuition, they go for their friends: Kiyoshi picking Makoto and Fumiko first, and Chiharu picking his usual group before going for anything they feel would give them the ‘obvious advantage.’

From thereon out teams are decided rather unceremoniously. And with Kiyoshi deciding to take up the mantle of team Red, and Chiharu team Blue, it’s time for the final event of their sports festival to begin.

“Good luck to the both of you. And of course to your teams as well. This is as much a test of your leadership as a test of your skill, and how this turns out will depend entirely on your ability to work together. So believe in them and lead them well. You have twenty minutes to discuss a plan with your team and another five to get in position. May the fairest player win.”

* * *

Kiyoshi couldn’t have seen this coming even if someone had explicitly told him what was up ahead.

It’s not that he doesn’t understand he’d been doing well… But… Tied for first place? It’s incomprehensible. Surely Nagisa had made a mistake. There’s no other way he can fathom it. Makoto and Fumiko had been doing  _ way  _ better than him. It’s some sort of fluke. He’d only been lucky enough to be placed on the consistently winning teams, that’s all. It’s not like he’d done anything special…

It’s funny. He can’t congratulate himself. Not even for something as minor as this.

He knows it’s something that literally doesn’t matter. It’s a fun thing Nagisa concocted. It’s not like making it to the finals of the middle school Sports Festival is gonna be the crowning achievement on his resume. (At least, he certainly fucking hopes not.) So why can’t he let himself have this? “You did something sorta cool! Good for you!”

He… Doesn’t know. It just feels like there’s this voice in the back of his head saying “You don’t deserve even this.”

Maybe it’s about the pressure. Is he really supposed to lead a bunch of people in one final game? Jesus, he can hardly even wrap his mind around ‘Capture The Robbers Paintball’ or whatever in the first place. Yeah. That’s gotta be it. He’s  _ really  _ not the leader type. That’s way more up Makoto’s alley.

Of course, ‘Leader type’ isn’t really Chiharu’s shtick, either. Kiyoshi doesn’t know him super well, but he’s observed him enough to get the gist of his position on the social totem pole. He’s a follower, too. More often than not he follows Hachirou and Rosey around like a lost puppy. He’s agreeable, he’s adorable, and he’s sensitive.

...In the good way! That’s not an insult! He swears!

...Can you be sensitive in the good way? If there’s a sensitive in the good way, Kiyoshi’s not it.

And that’s where he stops himself. He hates when he gets this way. In reality, there’s no difference between him and Chiharu. They’re objectively both relatively agreeable and kind people. He likes Chiharu well enough. So when he parses it logically, he should be able to apply that same sort of praise to himself.

And… He’s working on it. At least, he thinks he is. But it’s hard. It’s really hard. Reminding himself “You’re a likable person, Kiyoshi.”

_ Yeah. You’re a likable person, Kiyoshi. You’re a likable person, Kiyoshi. Think about it! Your friends like you! You’re a li- _

“So what’s the plan, White Bread?”

Kiyoshi jolts.  _ God! He hates that nickname. And the only person stubborn enough to keep using it... _

He whirls around to meet Makoto, sighing and placing his hands in his pockets.

“I dunno…” he admits. He’d told the rest of the team that he’d need a few minutes to gather himself and think of a plan before walking off. Makoto must have seen right through that, because he’d sure as hell followed.

“C’mon… I’m sure you’ve got  _ something,”  _ Makoto presses. “You’re always coming up with something. Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“Of course I’m scared, Makoto,” Kiyoshi admits, resting against a tree. “I’m not sure if you’ve picked up on this one yet: But I am  _ always  _ scared, Makoto. It’s. Like. My default setting.”

Makoto frowns. “Okay. Yeah. I noticed. But that doesn’t mean you can’t come up with a good plan.”

“I dunno,” Kiyoshi repeats, giving a lazy shrug. “Plans are  _ way  _ more your sorta thing. Can’t… You just do this? Please”

Makoto huffs, placing his hands on his hips. “Absolutely not! Nagisa trusted you with this, you know.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m capable of it.”

“Then make yourself capable! You’ll never know if you’ll never try. Put that big brain of yours to work and come up with something,” He huffs, almost sounding like a disappointed parent in the way he scolds him. It’s funny. When Makoto takes a tone like that, he almost sounds like Nagisa.

_ Or does Nagisa sound like…-? _

Kiyoshi shakes his head and banishes the thought. Makoto’s really managed to normalize the idea that he’s in some way connected to Korosensei. But Kiyoshi needs to remind himself that’s not reality. When Makoto puts on that stubborn face and gives encouragement after encouragement, he’s taking after Nagisa, not the other way around.

“You really oughtta give yourself more credit, Kiyoshi,” Makoto says, leaning on the tree next to him. “You’re, like,  _ super  _ smart. And I think you’re someone who has trouble believing that. Someone who has trouble believing pretty much any good thing I say about you, but I mean it. You’re smart. Remember? You tutored me in math.”

“That was super basic stuff.”

“Still knew more than me,” Makoto says. “That’s gotta count for something. So give it a try? Pretty please?”

“I just don’t know where to begin.”

“Then let me offer you a starting point.”

Kiyoshi perks up. “Please do.”

“But only if you promise to try. You gotta shoot for the moon! Even if you miss-”

_ “Yeah, yeah, I’ll land among the stars.  _ Don’t quote that to me. You sound like one of those shitty motivational posters.”

“I  _ am  _ on those shitty motivational posters.” 

Okay. Yeah. That one earns a chuckle from even Kiyoshi. He gives Makoto a hesitant smile. “Alright. I’ll try. Just… Give me an idea.”

Makoto smiles back. “Can do.” He stretches and yawns, before speaking up. “You’re observant, Kiyoshi. You see the best in people. And the worst in them, too. You overthink everything-”

“Gee, thanks!”

“You do! You overthink everything, so you’re prepared for every possible situation. Use that to your advantage. You’ve thought about every possible way your classmates can hurt you. So put that to some good use and think about how you can make them hurt each other.”

“It sounds  _ really  _ morbid when you word it that way-”

“It is morbid! It’s life or death out here. And we’re depending on you. So do your best, okay?” 

Kiyoshi pauses, but nods. “...Will do.”

Makoto punches his shoulder and grins. “I knew you would. So let’s go.”

Kiyoshi hesitates a moment more, then steps away from the tree. They begin the trek back towards the rest of the group. Admittedly he’s still not sure this will go well, but Makoto’s right. He  _ does  _ tend to overthink his classmates. Maybe… He can analyze their abilities, too. It’s worth a shot.

“You’re really good at this. You know that, right?” he says as he steps over a branch. “Always finding the right thing to say.”

“You’ll get it figured out too, eventually. It comes with life experience,” Makoto says with a shrug.

“Oh. Like you’re  _ sooo  _ much more experienced than I am.”

“I am! I’ve seen all sorts of things! And all sorts of leaders. It prepares you for things. The sports festival way back when was real different, you know.”

“How so?” Kiyoshi decides there’s no harm in entertaining him. Not after Makoto’d followed him to make sure he was okay.

“Well, for one, the stakes were  _ way  _ higher. Usually the E-Class didn’t participate in stuff like that. At least not in the way that they really tried. Because they weren’t given an equal playing ground. I’d probably have pushed them to try their best anyways, but things got real serious a week or two before the festival began. One of my students got caught having a part-time job, and Asano was all like ‘If you don’t beat me in the upcoming pole toppling competition I’m gonna tell the WHOLE SCHOOL. Then you’ll get in troubbleeee. You’ll get kicked out of school and your whole family’s gonna STARVE because YOU couldn’t support them.’”

“Waitwaitwait,” Kiyoshi interjects. “I’m sorry to interrupt - But I’m just. I’m just confused. The principal, right? I need to clarify. You’re talking about the principal Asano, right?” 

Makoto cheerfully shakes his head. “Nope! Our Asano.”

Kiyoshi sputters and skids to a stop. He holds a finger up and takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I just - I need a moment to process... That.”

Sure, the Asano he’s always known has been a little bit of a douchebag, but, in, like, the fun and charming ‘grumpy uncle,’ way! Not in the **_‘actively wants your family to starve’_ ** way.

“Are you  _ sure  _ you’ve got this right?”

“Yup!” Makoto keeps walking. He motions for Kiyoshi to follow. And he does. Admittedly he still feels like his whole world has been rocked, but he needs to remind himself Makoto is probably pulling this out of his ass. It’s nothing worth losing his head over right before the big game.

_ “Anyways,”  _ Makoto says. If he’s picking up on Kiyoshi’s bewilderment, he’s sure not acknowledging it. “At first my kid was like ‘Oh! Shit! What am I gonna do!?’ And he was  _ really  _ scared of inconveniencing his classmates. Yeah. You heard me right. _ Inconveniencing his classmates! _ When his whole education and livelihood were on the line, he was  _ still scared  _ of being a bother to them.”

“This is a  _ really  _ bleak story, Makoto. And a lot more serious than my situatio-”

“Shh! Shh! Just hear me out!” Makoto presses a finger to his lips. “Of course his classmates were like ‘That’s bullshit! We’ll support you until the end! Lead us, Isogai!’”

**_“ISOGAI!?”_ **

Kiyoshi inhales sharply. Again. Is… Is Makoto  _ sure  _ he’s got the right guy? Isogai and Asano are… Like… ‘Meet up over the summer and grill hotdogs together while catching up on the families’ sort of friends. Not the - And once again -  _ He needs to stress this: _ ‘I actively want you and your entire family to **_die’_ ** sort of friends.

“Yeah! Isogai! Black hair, golden eyes, real friendly demeanor? About…” Makoto squints, deep in thought. “About this tall?” He says, holding his hand high above his head. “Though on second thought he might be taller now. You know what I mean, though!”

_ ‘D… Do I?’  _ Kiyoshi asks himself. Because he’s pretty sure  _ he does not.  _

“Er - Yeah,” he says, just hoping to get to the point.

“Okay. So yeah. Isogai’s usually this real chill guy. Super agreeable. But now all his important stuff is on the line! So he’s like… ‘What do I do?’ And he studied real hard. And practiced as hard as he could, and he stepped forward and took charge of the class for the pole toppling competition. And he  _ rocked  _ at it. Because here’s the thing: Isogai was someone with a super big heart. Sure, he was friendly and agreeable and pure ikeman material, but that didn’t make him any less of a leader! It made him a better one! He used that heart to rally and lead his team!” Makoto grins, turning his head towards Kiyoshi.

“Which is… Great, I guess. But why are you telling me this?”

Makoto pauses. “I dunno. It just felt relevant.” He stops. “And not just, like… In the sports festival way. Sure, you might not be the rallying type like Isogai, but that’s okay. He took something that was a very normal part of him - His heart - And used it to his advantage. So you don’t need to be like him. I just think… You should try that, too. Think about what makes you you, and make that the very best part of you.” He cocks his head as he walks. “That’s the cool thing about this world. There’s all sorts of different people with all sorts of different skillsets. The Isogais and the Asanos and the Kiyoshis. And none of them are better than each other. As long as you know how to make use of your skillsets, then you’ll be prepared for anything you could possibly face.”

_ Huh… _

It’s… An intriguing thought.

“You know,” he says. “You really sound like Nagisa when you say things like that.”

Makoto blinks. It’s his turn to look utterly surprised. His mouth opens, then closes. And he turns Kiyoshi’s way. “You really think so?” He asks, to which Kiyoshi gives a curt nod. And quickly his surprised expression shifts into a massive grin. “Thanks!” 

“Yeah. No problem.”

By now they’re fast approaching the rest of the team. Admittedly Kiyoshi’s still not sure what he’s going to do… But…

He thinks he has some sort of idea.

Makoto reassuringly pats his back. “Remember,” He whispers. “Use those observational skills of yours. You’re gonna do great.”

Kiyoshi nods, takes a deep breath, and steps out of the underbrush.

“I’m ready,” he says, and every head turns his way. He looks out over his group and quickly begins to formulate a plan in his head. 

_ Okay, okay, okay. He thinks he has something going here… _

“Aina! You have a good eye, right!?” He shouts.

She quickly nods.

“Hideout in the trees around the flag! You’re small, so they’ll have trouble seeing you. And you’ll easily be able to snipe them from the canopies. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’ll serve as an excellent defense.”

Aina blinks, but nods. Then, without a complaint, scrambles to scale a nearby tree.

“Komoshi! Terumi! You have a lot of stamina! Guard the prisons. No-one’s going to be able to overpower you. Kazuki, you-”

“Use the nicknames!” Makoto interrupts. “You’re supposed to be using the nicknames, Kiyoshi!” he badgers.

Kiyoshi frowns, inhales, and shouts.

**_“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”_ ** And without another wasted breath he turns to Kazuki. “Kazuki, you’re agile. And you love to mess with people. Serve as a scout and a distraction. If you can, weasel your way in between their defenses. Just  _ don’t  _ make a fool of yourself. Now isn’t the time for jokes.”

Kazuki huffs and does a mock salute. “Okay, okay. Whatever you say, Captain White Bread.”

“Minki, Haruhi, Kiku. You’ll serve as our preliminary attack force. Your skills are well balanced. If you strike at just the right time, you can break through. Just wait for my cue.”

The girls nod. Kiku even salutes. “Can do!”

It all seems to come easy from there. Makoto’s right. Kiyoshi knows  _ exactly  _ what his classmates are capable of. How could he  _ not!?  _ He’s spent all year comparing himself to them! Making them out to be his opponents! But he’s never considered what he could do with them  _ on his side! _

“Emiko! Rin and Riko are going to put us at a tactical disadvantage! See if you can take them out as soon as possible! Ryoka! See if you can sneak around and free prisoners! They’ll likely have Matsuya and Rosey on the defensive. And while they’re quick, they’re  _ not  _ observant. If you’re careful, you can avoid them entirely!”

He can see it perfectly in his mind. The map of the battlefield. And where his classmates fit perfectly. Somehow this is  _ less  _ scary than actually playing the sports! This isn’t paintball! Not  _ yet!  _ Right now it’s a game of chess!

“Fumiko, lead the charge. You’re not just fast. You’re cunning and brave. You know when to back out of a situation, but also when to give it your all. I’m trusting you with this. You can take the flag.” He turns Makoto’s way. “Makoto, stay back here. If anyone gets within range of the flag, use that clap thing you figured out on Tuesday! We can stop them in their tracks!”

Fumiko nods. Makoto bounces up and down.

“Of course!”

_ Yes. Yes! It’s all coming together! _

“And I’ll stay back with Makoto. We’ll guard the flag while Komoshi and Terumi take care of the prison. If we do this just right… We… I…” He has to hold back a laugh. “I think we have this in the bag!”

Quickly, everyone gets into position. Kiyoshi prepares himself and waits for Nagisa’s cue.

He hears the whistle pierce the forest, and then the game begins for real.

Everything from there is pretty much a blur. A delightful, anxiety-inducing blur. Kiyoshi fights harder than he thinks he’s ever fought. And keeping a careful eye on his team, he manages to reign them in with a tactical preciseness. He makes split-second decisions, and shoots down his opponents like his life depends on it.

“Aina! Flank them! Komoshi! Re-enforce your stance! Kazuki! Watch out! You’re being tailed!”

It’s exhilarating and terrifying and  _ exhausting.  _ By the time they’re approaching the end of the game he can hardly catch his breath. His head is spinning, but his team is winning. They’ve managed to get Rin and Riko within their prison, and with those two threats out of the way, things have been a cinch from there. Slowly but surely they’ve managed to take in more of the Blue Team’s players, and they’re closing in on their flag. It’s not long now.

“I… I think we might really do this!”

Makoto nods enthusiastically. Terumi gives him a thumbs up.

Finally, he can relax. Things are in the bag now. All he has to do is wait. His perfect plan had played out as anticipated. He can hardly believe it! They’re going to  _ win!  _

He can’t let his guard down yet, though. There’s something rustling through the underbrush. His head shoots around, but it’s too late. Chiharu  _ bursts  _ from the forest, paintball gun in hand and as he makes a dash towards their flag.

Anxiety shreds at Kiyoshi’s gut. And as Chiharu takes aim, he screams the only thing he can possibly think of.

_ “Makoto!  _ **_Now!”_ **

There’s not a moment’s hesitation. A  _ clap  _ echoes throughout the forest. But it’s too late. Chiharu’s pulled the trigger, and a massive splotch of blue mars Makoto’s side. Chiharu freezes up, eyes wide and hand wavering. Kiyoshi vaguely processes it’s his time to strike, head ringing. But he can’t will himself to take a step forward.

His heart is pounding in his ears. He tries to reach for his gun, but it’s no use. He’s been caught up in the misfire. 

...No. it’s more than that. More than a simple miscalculation. Something worse than anxiety claws at his gut.

_ Sheer. Terror.  _ Like nothing he’s ever felt before.

Makoto laughs in defeat, dramatically stumbling back. “Aw! Guess you got me!” He says, cheekily sticking his tongue out. “But it seems like I got you, too! Get him, Kiyoshi!” 

Kiyoshi doesn’t move.

_ “Kiyoshi?” _

Kiyoshi  _ can’t  _ move.

Makoto looms over him, wearing that same grin as always. Bright and bold and  _ boring. _ Not the tedious sort of boring,  no - Like a hole drilled straight through his gut.

And suddenly he has to wonder just  _ what  _ makes Makoto capable of something like that.

Makoto takes a step forward, and that’s what breaks the spell. Kiyoshi stumbles backwards, practically tripping over himself to get away. He hits his head on a branch and collapses to the ground. 

“Kiyoshi! Are you ok-” Makoto jolts and ducks. “Watch out!”

But it’s too late for that, either. Kiyoshi faintly processes the splattering of wet paint against his chest. And as if suddenly thrust back into his senses, his breathing returns to normal.

He meets Makoto’s eyes and frowns.

“Woah! Sorry!” Makoto says. “I didn’t realize that would freak you out so much,”

“Me… Me neither,” Kiyoshi admits.

“It’s off to jail, you two,” Chiharu says with a friendly grin. He’s slung their flag over his shoulder. Kiyoshi squints and wonders what the hell happened to Terumi and Komoshi, but a quick glance to his right settles that as well. They’d been ambushed.

...Chiharu had outmaneuvered them.

“Good strategy,” Chiharu admits. “But I’m ‘fraid I’ll need to be taking this. Hope you don’t mind too much!” And with that, he’s gone.

“You heard the man,” Makoto says, pointing. “Blue Team's jail is over there. I can’t believe we messed that up.” He laughs. “I guess you win some, you lose some. But I still can’t believe things got out of our control so quickly. I hope we can rely on the rest of our team to stop their evil scheme.”

“Seems… A little too late for that,” Kiyoshi admits, his breathing returning to normal.

“Aw! Don’t discount them yet. You know what they’re capable of, so put some faith in that.” He holds a hand out. “Need some help getting up? You took a pretty bad tumble there.”

Kiyoshi pauses. Staring at Makoto’s hand, he can’t help but faintly process he’d been  _ afraid  _ of Makoto for a moment.

...What a ridiculous notion.

He takes his hand, and Makoto helps haul him to his feet. With that they begin the long trek towards the prison, Kiyoshi avoiding Makoto’s gaze.

“Listen. I’m sorry I was such a wimp back there,”

 “You weren’t a wimp.”

“Yes. I was. I totally froze up.” He scratches the back of his neck. “We’re going to lose because of me. Because I screwed up. I should have been braver.”

“...You were scared.”

“Of  _ what,  _ though?” 

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

_...You? _

No! Forget that! Now is  _ not  _ the time for this, Kiyoshi.

“I just… Don’t like being surprised. I was already so tense, and it was just… Too much. It’s like you… Pierced straight through my head. And… And suddenly everyone was relying on me, and I couldn’t move, and that just made me  _ more  _ scared.”

“Then that settles it. That’s what you were afraid of.”

Kiyoshi frowns.

“I guess…”

“No-one’s gonna be mad at you, Kiyoshi. This is a team effort. We’re all fighting our hardest. And so did you. So don’t beat yourself up.” Makoto pauses. “Plus, it’s not like anyone saw.”

“...And you won’t tell them?”

“Of course not.”

Kiyoshi awkwardly smiles as he steps into prison. “Thanks, Makoto.”

“No biggie.”

“And one more thing?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I’m the one who asked you. But please  _ never  _ do that around me ever again.”

Makoto chuckles. “...Can do.”

* * *

In the end, Kiyoshi’s right. Blue team takes home the victory. Chiharu sprints the red team’s flag back to his base, and although Fumiko puts up a damned good fight in attempting to stop him, it’s not enough. 

...Yeah. It was a close game - But closeness doesn’t matter in the final tally. Kiyoshi lost.

He doesn’t even know why it bothers him so much. This wasn’t particularly important to him. And… It’s not like his teammates seem particularly mad at him in the aftermath. They admit defeat, say they’d tried their hardest, and shake Blue team’s hands on a job well done.

He supposes… He’d just wanted something he could be proud of himself for.

Ultimately, the candy plan ends up falling through, too. Nagisa had caved and bought enough candy for the whole class. Something-something “He doesn’t want them forming any superiority complexes.” But Kiyoshi’s pretty sure the reality of the situation is he’d just have felt bad denying a single one of them the reward. “Not after they’d tried so hard.”

_...Had  _ they?

Kiyoshi doesn’t know. At least, he doesn’t know if he had. But Chiharu doesn’t seem to mind either way. He says he’s happy to share, and he’d have felt pretty bad hogging it all anyways. They’re good.

...Just as long as he gets dibs on the gummy worms, that is.

Nagisa laughs and agrees. “Sounds like a plan.”

It had been too late for a lesson by the time they got everything sorted out, so Nagisa had just popped on a movie and told them to relax for the rest of the day. Enjoy their candy and chill as a reward for a job well done.

Kiyoshi antsily gnaws on a lollipop, only paying half attention to the movie. He feels bad after all the effort Nagisa’d gone to, but he just can’t focus. Today’s been… Weird.

“Congrats on second place,” a voice says as Makoto slides into the seat in front of him. His arms are full of candy.

Kiyoshi squints and silently prays for him to watch his footing. He looks like he’s going to drop his sugary hoard at the slightest misstep, and Kiyoshi  _ cannot  _ handle the thought. “That’s not really something worth congratulating me on, but thanks anyways.”

“Awww! Don’t say that,” Makoto says, placing his stash on the table and tearing open a box of nerds. “Give yourself some credit. You don’t get a chance like this a lot.”

A chance to  _ what?  _ Screw up? In front of everyone? 

_ ‘No, not everyone.’  _ Kiyoshi reminds himself. Makoto had promised not to tell anyone what had happened. That… Their loss had been pretty much all due to Kiyoshi’s screwup. It’s just between the two of them.

...Somehow that feels worse, actually.

Gah! He doesn’t want Makoto to judge him!

He knows objectively he probably won’t. In the reality of the situation, Makoto’s just not that sort of person. Kiyoshi’s told himself that a million times. But it’s hard not to imagine Makoto being more judgemental than he initially let on. Kiyoshi himself can be pretty judgemental at times, after all. So if the class loser is secretly psychoanalyzing his classmate’s flaws, who is he to say that the happy-go-lucky Makoto doesn’t have a hidden side as well?

...Something dark, and dangerous, and worse than anything he could possibly ever imagine.

Maybe that’s it, too. It wasn’t that he’d just screwed up. It’s that he’d screwed up because he’d frozen in fear. Around  _ Makoto.  _ The puppy dog of a student! What was he thinking? And… Why can’t he shake the thought?

Makoto frowns, noting Kiyoshi’s lack of a response. He turns away from his candy hoard (Of course turning back one more time to delicately pat it and make sure the mountain of Twix and Twizzlers doesn’t topple) and meets Kiyoshi’s eyes. “You did good. You did  _ really  _ good. You were so cool out there!”

“Does cool really mean anything when I still lost?” Kiyoshi asks. “I… Can’t help but feel I let everyone down. What if they’re mad at me?”

_ ‘What if you’re mad at me?’ _

The words he doesn’t dare speak.

“No way, man,” Makoto says, kicking his feet up on his desk. It takes all of his precision to avoid kicking over his candy. And only now does Kiyoshi realize he’s got a Pixie Stick in his mouth like a particularly goofy cigarette. “I know it’s hard, but give yourself credit for once. Remember what I said? That brain of yours is your biggest asset. So use it and look around. Does our team  _ look _ mad at you?”

Kiyoshi’s eyes drift around the room. Haruhi and her clique chat contently, passing a Kit-Kat amongst each other. Kiku smirks, gives Terumi a wild look, and takes a whole-ass bite out of it. No snapping, no sharing, no nothing. Aina’s already chewing her out, but Ryoka sighs and gets up to grab another bar.

Emiko’s completely tuckered out. She’s fallen asleep at her desk. It’s hard to see in the dim lighting of the classroom, but upon closer inspection her brother’s let her use his jacket as a pillow. He pops Starbursts, occasionally sending a fond glance her way.

Komoshi and Minki are fully focused on the movie, an equally as massive pile of candy on Komoshi’s desk. Minki sits on his lap, using him as a pillow in his own right as she reaches for a thing of Pop Rocks.

Fumiko stands at Nagisa’s desk, her eyes occasionally flickering towards the projector. Nagisa had given her permission to try out a bit of everything, seeing as how she’d never really gotten the chance to eat candy before. She curiously takes a bite of Laffy Taffy, gives it an inquisitive look, then puts it aside and moves onto something else.

...Her ‘normal people manners’ are still a work in progress.

“No. I guess not,” Kiyoshi finally admits. “I guess they don’t look mad at me at all.”

“Of course not!” Makoto replies. “I’m not sure if you get this by now or not, dummy, but they had the time of their life out there. They don’t give a shit whether they won or not. None of that stuff  _ really matters.  _ It’s like Nagisa said: as long as they tried their best and pushed themselves to their limits they were bound to discover something new about themselves.”

That helps Kiyoshi crack a smile.

“Hey, Makoto? Can I ask you a question?”

“‘Course,” Makoto says, looking up from pouring Skittles in his mouth. He holds up a finger. “Jusht let me finish chewing firsht. Mouth’s full.”

“Okay,” Kiyoshi says, trying to ignore his blatant disgust.

Finally, Makoto finishes up. “Okay. What is it?” he asks.

“That… Guy you mentioned earlier. Isogai. You… Never actually finished the story. Did he win? Against Asano-san?” Kiyoshi pauses. “Or did he screw it up, too?”

Makoto pauses. Frowns deeply, then shrugs. “Does it really matter?” he asks. “But for the record, no. He whooped Asano’s butt. He didn’t 'screw it up.' At least… Not that time. Isogai had plenty of failures throughout the course of his school year. And I’m sure he’s had plenty more throughout the course of his life. But… That’s okay. And it’s okay that you couldn’t win this one. You’re not Isogai, now, are you? So you don’t need to do what he did. I just told you the story ‘cause I thought it would cheer you up. Sorry if it didn’t work.”

“No, no - It worked,” Kiyoshi says. “Maybe a little too well. Everything you said about me back there… It got me  _ so hyped up.  _ So when I lost it felt like I came crashing down.” He pauses. “Did… Did you mean all of that? About me being observant and thoughtful?”

“Of course!” Makoto says. “Swear on my life. So don’t beat yourself up too much, okay?” He passes a Tootsie-pop back over his shoulder and holds it out towards Kiyoshi. “Hitting the ground really hurts, but I know you can get back up again. You’re one of the best. So please don’t be afraid to try again in the future just because you couldn’t do it this time. I’d hate to see that. This is just the beginning of the things you can do.”

Kiyoshi hesitates, before taking the Tootsie-pop. Suddenly he’s thankful for the dim lighting, because he thinks if Makoto saw him tear up over that he’d just about have an aneurysm.

“When you hesitate, there’s one thing you  _ must _ remember in this life, Kiyoshi Karasuma,” Makoto says, putting on his best ‘old and wisened’ voice. “The master has failed more times than the novice had even tried.”

“Are you doing the motivational poster thing again?”

“Yeah. What do you think?”

“I think you need to get a new hobby before I really hit you,” Kiyoshi says with a scoff. “...Thanks, though, Makoto. It… Means a lot.”

“No need to thank me,” Makoto replies. His eyes drift towards his desk, and he lets out a low ‘hmmm.’ “Or maybe there is! If your old pal’s words mean so much to you, can you do me a favor and grab me some Skittles? Looks like I’m fresh out.”

Kiyoshi sighs, but relents. Sure, Makoto might be a terrifying dumbass who can down three packs of skittles in five minutes, but he’s  _ his  _ terrifying dumbass. “Can do.”

He makes his way over to Nagisa’s desk, passing Fumiko on the way. Nagisa’s eyes drift towards him as he reaches for a bag of Skittles and he hesitates.

“Sorry,” he says. “Just grabbing some Skittles for Makoto. Hope you don’t mind.”

Nagisa gives him an amused smile. “I bought these for you all. I don’t mind one bit.” 

“Oh. Right.” Kiyoshi awkwardly laughs and grabs the bag of Skittles. He reaches for one more just for good measure.

Nagisa’s giving him a peculiar look. He bites his lip, but then finally speaks, his voice low. “You look exhausted,” he admits. “You feeling okay?”

“Oh--? Yeah,” Kiyoshi replies, awkwardly scratching at his shoulder. “I just  _ am  _ exhausted. But that’s - Uh - Pretty much perpetual with me, so don’t worry.” He gives Nagisa a tired smile. “It’s just been a longggg day.”

“Sure has,” Nagisa agrees. “You did good out there, though.  _ Really  _ good.”

“So I’ve heard,” Kiyoshi says.

“I’m really proud of you. I know that wasn’t exactly within your comfort zone, so I’m very thankful you were willing to push through it. Thank you for trying your best for me, Kiyoshi.”

“You really think I did my best?”

“Well, I’m not exactly sure that’s something I can answer. That’s for you to know. But…” Nagisa brings his fingers to his chin. “I do know what I saw. I think you fought very hard.  _ And  _ I think you had a lot more fun out there than you expected you would.”

Kiyoshi still remembers what it felt like to be winning. The manic rush and the glee of being on top of the plan. Sure… It had all fallen apart. Most of his plans do. But it had felt pretty good at the time.

...If he looks deep enough, maybe it still does.

“Yeah. I think so too,” Kiyoshi agrees with a nod.

Nagisa nods back and falls silent. Kiyoshi hesitates, then grabs a third bag of Skittles for  _ extra  _ good measure. 

“Wait,” Nagisa says. “I’ll drop it after this, but are you  _ sure  _ there’s not something on your mind? You look bothered.”

Kiyoshi doesn’t  _ feel  _ bothered. At least - He doesn’t think so. Okay. Well, no. That’s a fat lie. He feels plenty bothered. But he also doesn’t think he  _ should  _ feel bothered, which is pretty much the default for him as well.

“I dunno,” he admits with a shrug.

“Well… If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here,” Nagisa says with a welcoming smile. 

“Thanks, Shiota-sensei,” Kiyoshi says as he turns back towards the desks. But he hesitates mid-step, and looks back Nagisa’s way.

He still remembers what else he’d felt earlier. And his mouth opens, then closes... With the question he doesn’t dare ask on his tongue.

_ ‘Shiota-sensei… Have you ever been afraid of someone you know you should trust?’ _

He shakes his head and shakes the sense of dread with it. Blinks slowly and decides to ask about something else for his own sake.

“Listen. I - Uh… Heard a rumor earlier. Is it really true Asano-san and Isogai-san faced off against each other back in the day?”

Nagisa looks shocked. Like it takes him a moment to process what Kiyoshi’s even  _ asking  _ about, but recognition soon settles on his face. “Oh, yeah. They did, actually,” he says. “School sports festival. Now  _ that  _ was a wild day. Got to hear Karma speak broken English and met Gakushuu’s jacked American friends. Good times.”

“His  _ what now? _ ”

“The man got around. Still does. He has connections with  _ all sorts  _ of people. He’s just charismatic like that. Name a field and Gakushuu’s probably got at least half a dozen friends in it.”

“That doesn’t sound - That’s -  _ What? _ ” Kiyoshi asks, squinting. But he quickly shakes his head. “Okay. Nevermind. That’s besides the point. I was just… Surprised to hear about something like that. Those two look like they get along so well.”

“They do,” Nagisa says with a shrug. “Like I said: Gakushuu’s a connections man. He’s always working on his relationships. Even if they weren’t so polished at first.” He pauses. “I guess that’s really none of my business, though. It’s pretty personal. Ask him sometime if you’re curious.” He lowers his voice and grins “Don’t tell anyone: But he  _ loves  _ to talk about himself.”

“You don’t need to tell  _ me _ that! I know he does!”

Kiyoshi’s never been as close to “Uncle Gakushuu” as much as the other members of Nagisa’s family, but he’s been around enough to know there’s nothing more the man enjoys than a well-told story about himself. His own name is practically his Kryptonite. 

Nagisa chuckles. “Fair enough,” he says. “I’m surprised you heard about the sports festival, to be honest. I’d pretty much forgotten myself. Did your parents tell you a story by any chance?”

“Uh… No, actually,” Kiyoshi admits. He’s heard plenty of weird stuff about the E-Class. From his mother’s uncouth nickname to the time she got them all captured by a literal serial killer. But the  _ extremely normal in comparison  _ sports festival had passed him by.

Nagisa raises an eyebrow.

“Let’s just say I… Heard about it through a friend of a friend.”

Recognition settles in Nagisa’s eyes once more, and he gives Kiyoshi an all-too-knowing smile. “Ah…” he says, before motioning for Kiyoshi to be on his way. “You might want to get going. I think our friend is hungry.”

Only now does Kiyoshi notice Makoto staring him down like a pack of rabid wolves. He jolts and scrambles to grab a fourth pack of Skittles, then hurries on his way. “Thank you, Shiota-sensei!” He shouts over his shoulder. “It was nice talking to you!”

“You too, Kiyoshi. Any time.”

Kiyoshi returns to his desk, handing over the small  _ fortune  _ of Skittles to Makoto. Fumiko’s returned to her seat by now as well, and gives him a curious look as she fiddles with a piece of chocolate.

“Thanks!” Makoto says as Kiyoshi slides into his seat. No hesitation, he tears into a packet of Skittles with his teeth, nearly spilling them all over his desk.

Kiyoshi just about has a heart attack. He already feels bad enough having robbed the entire class of Skittles! He thinks he’d just about die of shame if Makoto went and wasted them all!

He decides to deliberately ignore Makoto’s infuriating demeanor, if only for the sake of his own heart-rate, and turns Fumiko’s way. “You did well out there,” he says. “I didn’t know you could run that fast!”

“Me neither, for the record,” Fumiko admits. “But regardless, you did admirably as well. You made a much better leader than I’d first anticipated.”

Kiyoshi shies back, but gives a nervous smile. It’s not exactly flattering, but it’s still more than he’d expected from Fumiko, so he’ll take it.

“See?” Makoto huffs. “Fumiko agrees with me! You did awesome! So no more of that ‘second place’ bullcrap. Be nicer to yourself. Go home and brag to your parents or whatever!”

Kiyoshi can’t help but laugh at that one. “Can’t speak for my dad, but I’m PRETTY sure my mom would call me a loser and tell me to do better next time.”

Makoto gasps indignantly. “She would  _ NOT!”  _ he hisses.

“Yes she would!” Kiyoshi argues. “Just! Jokingly!”

_ What if his mom if not hilarious but harmful? _

That  _ does  _ remind him, though.

“By the way,” he says. “My mom and dad should be home next Tuesday. So if you two want to come over after school…” He nervously knits at his hands. They’ve been waiting a long time for this, so he hopes it won’t end up being a disappointment. “I’d. Uh. Be down.”

“Finally!” Makoto says, pumping his fist in the air. “Are you kidding me!? Of course I want to! I’ve been waiting months for this!”

“I’ll have to pour over my schedule,” Fumiko admits. “But as long as I get Shiota-sensei’s permission to miss tutoring for a day…” Fumiko smiles with all the assuredness of a girl who’s quickly becoming a natural-born liar. “I’d quite like that as well.”

“It’s a plan, then,” Kiyoshi says. “I… Hope you’ll have a good time.”

“Don’t overthink it. You  _ know _ we will.” Makoto holds out a reassuring hand and smiles. “I already can’t wait.”

Kiyoshi meets his eyes. And even in the dark, they sparkle with anticipation. Pure unadulterated joy. Kiyoshi’s not sure what he’d seen in those eyes earlier… Something dark and malicious, or something that was simply a trick of his anxiety-riddled brain, but he knows one thing for certain.

...No. Makoto’s not mad at him.

And so feeling somewhat like a seventeenth-century aristocrat inviting a vampire into his home, Kiyoshi smiles, tilts his head, and says.

“I can’t wait to see you there.”

Before they know it they’re back to shenanigans as usual. Makoto indoctrinates them into the idea of arranging Skittles into combinations and then naming the “flavors.” The highlight of the entire bizarre experience ends up being when Makoto bunches lines of yellow and green Skittles together before subsequently naming the flavor “Fuck you” and implying it’s some sort of joke about looking down on people.

...Oh. A Korosensei joke. Of course it’s a Korosensei joke.

Fumiko decides hoarding all the purple ones is a much better idea, to which Makoto loudly refutes that’s not a flavor combination at all. That’s monotony! That’s madness! But snickering, he makes no attempt to stop her from snatching the purple ones straight off his desk.

By the end of the day, Kiyoshi’s laughing too. And it’s almost enough to make him forget entirely about what he’d felt during the tournament earlier.

...Almost.

But leading an anxiety-riddled life like Kiyoshi's, ‘almost-victories’ and ‘almost-forgetting’ will have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After such a wait... It's here!
> 
> Sorry about the delay everyone. Like I said last chapter: With medical issues things have been CRAZY. Good news now is that my medical scare turned out to be nothing serious, and my beta's... [Squints at Discord] ass hurty surgery is clearing up nicely. At least the next two chapters should be out on a weekly basis!
> 
> Glad to finally get back into some plot-y stuff with this chapter. Don't get me wrong, the past two were adorable, but VERY slice of life. Admittedly this whole fic is very slice of life, but it seems we're finally on the track to seeing some more genuine character development!
> 
> First and foremost namely Makoto's acquisition of the stun clap, and the memories that entails! I'm not the only one who's overthought how anxious Korosensei must have been during the Island Arc, right? He managed to keep up that cheery facade, but his one unconditional promise from the very beginning had been to protect those students. To the point where he'd been ready to "stitch them back together" just like he did with Kayano. But in his Ultimate Defense form like that, he LITERALLY WASN'T capable of gathering their blood and organs. That had to be pretty scary, I bet. He easily could have lost Nagisa or another student there, and there would have been nothing he could do about it. It had to have brought thoughts of another loss of his to mind.
> 
> Luckily for Makoto, however, it seems he still doesn't remember someone who's name starts with an A and ends with a guri Yukimura. For now, at least. Who knows what will arise from his memories in time?
> 
> I had TONS of fun with codenames. While most of them are dumb OC gags, (I.E Chiharu being based on my Curse of Strahd character who wants to solve things peacefully (lol) or Minako having a little bit of a penchant for My Chemical Romance) I feel the main three's are pretty self explanatory. Fumiko IS the token woman (Fun fact: Token Woman was actually her early development name before I named her), Kiyoshi is half white and also bland, and Makoto's is lifted directly from the dumb name Korosensei wanted to give himself when they used code names way back when.
> 
> But I suppose I should be discussing the real hero of this chapter: Kiyoshi!! It's been a while since we've seen a lot from him, so I decided to finally throw him a bone and let him have a near-victory. We're coming up on a mini Kiyoshi arc, so I hope you enjoy this start to it!
> 
> I had fun delving into how his anxieties and overthinking can be used to his own good if he turns them around in his mind. And of course the implication that said anxieties don't always make him an innocent baby, and can make him sort of judgmental or dickish at times. He puts words in peoples' mouths expecting them to hate him, and while that's a perfectly valid worry it makes him display VERY little faith in the people around him. Good news is he's working on it, because he DOESN'T want to come across as dickish. At all.
> 
> With him I'm also doing an exploration of just how weird and even scary it must be to see the things Makoto remembers and does in person. Kiyoshi's just a normal kid, and a scaredy cat, at that. So I thought it'd be fun to have him react to his 13 year old classmate using a goddamn REALASS ASSASSINATION TECHNIQUE like "WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK." Not to parallel the Karma arc, but... [Parallels the Karma arc] (Which, needless to say, those two WILL talk about this eventually. How could I possibly pass that up?)
> 
> Hands down the talk abt Asano and Isogai is my favorite gag this chapter. I was losing my mind writing it. I also really liked the Skittles thing. It's another one of those dumb gags that's totally recreated from my own childhood memories.
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were Sports Go Sports by Garfunkel and Oates, Bet On it and Getch'a Head In The Game from High School Musical, Work This Body by Walk The Moon, Underdog by Imagine Dragons, and Loser by Garfunkel and Oates. 
> 
> But I know what you've all really been waiting for! The results of the popularity contest! And here they are! 
> 
> https://ais-fic.tumblr.com/post/187332514393/popularity-poll-results
> 
> I'll be hosting another one after second trimester, so if you didn't manage to get your vote in now, you can always vote then!
> 
> All in all I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and make sure to let me know what you think! The next one will be up in a week, so I hope to see you then! o7


	16. Family Time/1st Period

There’s this feeling in Kiyoshi’s gut that only grows stronger as the week inches towards Tuesday.

Er - Well - Feelings. There’s a lot of things Kiyoshi's feeling. But that simply sounds less eloquent than a single feeling so he supposes it- Okay. No. That’s beside the point.

Kiyoshi feels  _ many  _ things as the promised date draws closer.

Of course, initially, there’s a sense of apprehension. That familiar dread he’s grown all too used to. That voice in the back of his head that tells Kiyoshi he’s making a big mistake. That his friends will hate his house, judge his interests, and berate his dog. That comes as no surprise to Kiyoshi.

What  _ does  _ come as a surprise to Kiyoshi is the anticipation. 

At first, it’s hard to notice. Shadowed by the dread. But as Tuesday draws nearer and nearer it seems to grow ever stronger. Yes. He’s certain:

He’s excited, too.

Over the months it’s become slightly easier to push away the anxiety. Of course, it remains, but he’s getting better at telling himself that none of that is true. Reasoning it out. 

_ ‘They wouldn’t be so excited to come over in the first place if they didn’t like you, Kiyoshi.’ _

_ ‘Everything will go just fine.’ _

_ ‘You’ll have a good time! They’ll get to meet your parents, and you can show them your room.’ _

And believe it or not, the reassurances work.

It’s a tactic Kiyoshi’s utilized all of his life. So it’s not like this is anything new to him. He was diagnosed with a General Anxiety Disorder when he was seven, for Pete’s sake. So it’s not like he’s  _ not  _ used to telling himself his fears are irrational bullshit... But he can’t help but feel it’s legitimately easier to believe himself this time.

Fumiko meets him outside his home Monday morning, and Makoto greets him the moment he steps into class. Over the days, the weird anxiety about what had happened with Makoto Friday afternoon even starts to fade. Kiyoshi can't shake it entirely, but for the most part...? Things return to as they should be. They goof around during P.E, gossip during lunch, and at the end of the day, Makoto says he’s excited for tomorrow.

...It’s them. It has to be them. Their enthusiasm. That  _ has  _ to be what’s making it easier. ‘You’ve found yourself people you can just... Click with,’ he reassures himself, and finally, he can let himself feel excited, too.

Tuesday morning he has the jitters. And they only grow more intense as the day flies by. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this excited and terrified all at once before in his entire life. Which is, like, totally an exaggeration because everything’s sort of end-all for him, but it’s a nice notion.

At the end of the day, they pack up their stuff. Fumiko and Makoto have already given Nagisa a heads up on the plan, and he’s happy to oblige.

“As long as ditching your schoolwork to hang out at Kiyoshi’s place doesn’t become a regular thing, you two are good. Have a fun time!”

And with that, they’re off. They begin the momentous journey towards Kiyoshi’s house, chatting the entire way.

“Your house looks relatively big from the outside. Is it equally as impressive on the inside?”

“I don’t know what qualifies as impressive to you, to be quite frank.”

Fumiko snorts. “Fair enough.”

“I am so excited to meet your parents! We gotta catch up! Then I gotta tell them what a cool son they have!”

“I am literally begging you not to do either of those things,” Kiyoshi says, to which Makoto overdramatically huffs. That never once deters the skip in his step, however, and he hops from foot to foot with an unbridled enthusiasm.

“Which - Uh, reminds me,” Kiyoshi says. “As a note, my dad might not be home til’ like... Six. Depends on how busy he is with work. He  _ will  _ be there, though. I just, like, figured you could visit before he comes home since I don’t want you to have to wait until six. That would be weird. What would we even do? And he could be back before six anyways, so that’d be  _ really  _ weird. Anyways, yeah. He’ll be home. You just might not see him right away.”

“Works for me!” Makoto says, half-patting, half-slapping his back. “Your dad can wait, anyways. The  _ real  _ thing I’m excited about is hanging out with you!”

Which is… a relief to hear. Kiyoshi’s had a niggling fear that the only reason Makoto is invested in this is because of his parents. After all, he  _ is  _ the son of Tadaomi and Irina Karasuma, after all. He’s been having to remind himself that’s ridiculous. Makoto approached him before he even knew about his parents. The fact that he’s the son of the coworkers of the guy Makoto believes he’s the reincarnation of (a  _ mouthful  _ of a phrase) is just a mere coincidence.

...Right?

“Thanks, Makoto,” Kiyoshi says with a smile. “I’m  _ really  _ not that exciting, but I appreciate it anyway.”

Before they know it they’ve arrived. Kiyoshi digs around in his pocket for his housekey and unlocks the door.

“As a note,” he says as he steps in and motions for them to follow. “Be careful. Taro gets excited easily and if you’re not careful he might tackle y-”

As if on cue, a stampede of footsteps echoes down the house. Claws scratching at the hardwood floor and making ditzy turns across the carpet, a fluffy white menace comes shooting into the room. Kiyoshi opens his mouth to tell him to heel, when Makoto practically  _ lunges  _ at the dog.

They meet in the middle. Taro, mid-attempt to meet Kiyoshi, shoots into Makoto, who engulfs him in a massive hug.

“W-What are you  _ doi-” _

_ “You never told me your dog was so  _ **_cute,_ ** _ Kiyoshi!”  _ Makoto wails, burying his face in Taro’s fur. “And so  _ soft!  _ What a good boy! Isn’t he!?” he asks, his voice devolving into baby talk. “Yes you are! Yes you are!”

Taro, being the chillest dog on the planet, just sort of accepts that this is his life now and contentedly stares at Kiyoshi from across the room, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Oh. Right,” Kiyoshi replies, having to hold back a nervous laugh. “Taro’s the best. Sorry if I forgot to mention the fact that he drips with charisma.” He must have been too busy telling stories about his dog extorting him for toast to mention he actually has a cute face.

“And so well behaved!” Makoto comments, vigorously petting Taro’s back. “Can I take him home? Pretty please!? I think he loves me!”

“I’m sorry, but gonna have to say no to that one. Taro loves everyone, but he’s my boy.” He crouches down by Taro, giving him a scratch behind the ears. He motions for Fumiko to follow, but Makoto sneezes before she gets the chance.

Kiyoshi jolts. “W-What was that!?”

“He just sneezed, imbeci-” Regardless of whether or not Kiyoshi actually qualifies as an imbecile, Fumiko doesn’t get the chance to finish.

Makoto sneezes again. And loud.  _ Fumiko  _ treats it like it’s no big deal, but Kiyoshi swears he sounds like a goddamn horse.

“Are… Are you okay?” Kiyoshi asks.

“I... Think I’m allergic to dogs!” Makoto declares. Despite his newfound discovery, however, he makes no move to pull himself away from Taro, and in fact only buries his face in his fur further.

“I… Think you are going to give yourself anaphylactic shock!” Fumiko comments.

“Aw! No way!” Makoto huffs. “I’m not sure if you’ve gotten this yet, but I’m  _ invincible.”  _

Considering Kiyoshi saw him run into a closed doorway just this morning, he sincerely doubts that, but he decides to let Makoto believe. “Whatever you say, Makoto,” he says. “Just. Uh. Let me know if you need anything? We have Benadryl upstairs.”

Finally, Fumiko makes her way over to Taro. She stares him down awkwardly, never once reaching to pet him.

“Hello… Taro-san.”

She looks decidedly unimpressed. Kiyoshi gets it. She’s told him she’s not a huge fan of dogs before, so it’s not like this is something unexpected. That said, Taro, being Taro, decides her distaste towards him being alive makes her his new favorite being on the planet. He stands, knocking Makoto off of him, and begins to tail Fumiko, to which she steps back with an upset look.

“He’s… Uh… He’s approaching me,” she murmurs. “Make him stop.”

A familiar voice intervenes before Kiyoshi can even speak up.

“Get over here,” it snaps, to which Taro obeys. His attention sufficiently torn from Fumiko, he trots over to the kitchen doorway, in which Kiyoshi’s mom stands.

“Sorry about that,” she says, Taro standing by her heels. “He’s a disobedient little shit.”

Kiyoshi can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed. Is she seriously shit-talking the dog before even introducing herself? He half expects Makoto to jump to Taro’s defense, but his attention has already been torn as well. He stares at Kiyoshi’s mom, his mouth agape, and a starstruck look in his eyes that seems to imply it’s ludicrous for her to introduce herself in the first place.

Nonetheless, Fumiko looks equally as annoyed as Kiyoshi feels, so he decides to speak up before his mom makes a further fool of herself.

“Er- Mom. You should probably introduce yourself. Something-something ‘Oh! You’re Kiyoshi’s friends! It’s so nice to finally meet you! I am going to stop trash-talking the dog now because that is not a thing normal families do!’”

“Alright, alright. I was getting to it. I just needed to reprimand the basta-”

**_“You’re Irina Jelavic!”_ **

It seems Makoto’s finally found his words.  _ This  _ close to vibrating like a vacuum or perhaps a particularly unruly chihuahua, he quickly leaps to his feet.

Kiyoshi’s mom seems relatively amused by his enthusiasm, however, so Kiyoshi tries not to worry too much. Of course she’d eat up the attention. She loves feeling like the B-list celebrity she is. 

“Karasuma, actually,” she corrects. “You’ve heard of me?”

“Good going calling a woman by her maiden name,” Fumiko comments, having taken a seat on the couch. Taro motions to follow her, but Irina grabs him by his collar.

“Oh! Oh! Of course! Irina… Karasuma,” Makoto says. And as if finally putting two pieces of a puzzle together, his jaw drops. “Irina Karasuma! That’s  _ adorable!”  _ he squeals. “It’s so fitting for you!” 

There’s an… Immeasurable excitement in his eyes. And even as Kiyoshi’s mom takes to the attention, he can’t help but feel disoriented. She holds her hand out to greet his friends, but the cogs in his brain are turning at a hundred miles a minute.

His mom is plenty cool. He’ll be the first to admit that. (Despite some of the shit he rightfully gives her.) But the familiarity Makoto looks at her with is something else entirely. 

Is it… Is it _ really _ possible for someone to fake that much enthusiasm?

This is starting to become more of a mystery with each day. And Kiyoshi can’t help but wonder if Fumiko is as baffled by this as he is. The way Makoto acts around certain people… And the things he knows… Is it simply a facade, or something more? Either way, it’s starting to give Kiyoshi the heebie-jeebies.

He forces himself to shrug that feeling off. Now is not the time to be thinking about any of this. It’s a topic much more aptly suited for lying awake at night if you ask him. For now, he needs to, like, intervene and herd his friends to his room before his mom, like, offers to show them his baby pictures.

“If you guys want I can show you my room next. Unless you wanna chat with my lame mom more?” The sarcasm bubbles in his tone.

His mom softly gasps. “Your lame… Your lame  _ mother!?”  _ she asks, a faux offense in her voice. “I see how it is. Are you that desperate to get them away from me that quickly?.”

“Yep,” Kiyoshi says without a moment’s hesitation. “You’re embarrassing me.”

His mom gasps louder. “...Embarrassing you?” she jokes. “And after  _ everything  _ I do for you.”

“Kiyoshi Karasuma!” Makoto declares, gently thwacking him over the head. “That is no way to talk to your mom!”

Why does it feel like Makoto is taking his respect for his mother more seriously than his  _ mom is!? _

“Okay, okay,” Kiyoshi admits, rubbing at the back of his head. “I’m sorry. But I meant it. Can I show them my room?”

Finally, his mom’s overdramatic pout fades. She smiles and nods. “Yeah, I’ll scram,” she says. “You wouldn’t want your  _ lame mom  _ embarrassing you in front of your friends too much.” She motions to Taro. “You want the menace, or should I keep him?”

Makoto’s looking at the dog with a quivering lip. He reaches out to grab at him, but Kiyoshi beats him to an answer. “I… Think it’s better if you keep him,” he says. He’d caught the way Fumiko was sending him an antsy gaze. She’s clearly not comfortable around the dog… And what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t step in?

“Okay. Seems I’ve been regulated to babysitting duty again,” his mom replies, leaning down to meet Taro’s eyes. “It’s just you and me, dog. So you better behave.” 

“I’m sure he will, Mom,” Kiyoshi reassures, carefully maneuvering past her. He motions for his friends to follow. “Let’s get going.”

Irina waves at them as they pass by. “It was nice getting to meet you, even if only for a fuckin’ second. You antisocial kids nowadays…”

Kiyoshi rolls his eyes. He doesn’t bother to debate with her that kids have always been ‘fuckin antisocial.’ She knows that. Kids today and kids fifteen years ago share nothing if not one thing:  _ An instinctual desire to get away from Irina Karasuma as soon as humanly possible. _

“It was nice to... 'Meet you' too!” Makoto says, a giddy tone in his voice that seems to imply a joke that no-one else is in on.

_...Fuckin weirdo. _

Either way, Kiyoshi takes them up to his room. He’d made sure to thoroughly clean it and hide any particularly embarrassing things Monday afternoon, so he hopes it will be satisfactory. He turns the doorknob and invites them in.

“It’s… Not anything super special,” he admits. “But I hope you like i-”

Makoto’s already elbowing his way past him. “Enough of the dramatic introduction!” he says. “Let me see! Let me see!”

Quickly Kiyoshi scrambles out of the way. “Okay!” he relents. “Just don’t dig around too much or mess anything up! I finally have this place clean for once!”

Makoto murmurs a quick agreement and rushes into the room. And Fumiko follows, in much less of a rush. Makoto’s head whips around as he takes the room in, but one thing catches his attention more than any other: The fish tank in the corner of the room.

He rushes over to it, pressing his hands to the glass. “You didn’t tell us you had fish, Kiyoshi!” he says, carefully eyeing them up. “They’re so  _ cute!” _

Cute is the last thing he’d use to describe his goldfish, but he supposes he’s not going to rain on Makoto’s parade. “Yeah,” he says. “I must have forgot. I got them a few years back at a carnival.” He walks over to Makoto’s side, motioning for him to take a step back. It takes a moment, but Makoto obliges. And quickly, Kiyoshi begins pointing at the fish. “That’s Eenie… That’s Meeny, and that’s Mo.”

Fumiko cocks an eyebrow as she makes her way over to the fish tank. “And where exactly is Miny?” She asks.

Kiyoshi gives an awkward laugh. Raining on parade time. “Eenie ate Miny three months into having them,”

“Oh no!” Makoto gasps. “How could he!? That was supposed to be his friend!”

“I’ve quickly discovered fish are relentless opportunists. They had babies a few months back, you know.”

“Where are the babies!?” Makoto whimpers.

“They ate them too.”

“Oh  **_no!”_ ** Makoto covers his mouth with his hands, staring at the fish tank in abject horror. “These are some evil-ass fish!”

Fumiko sighs and gives the fish one last curious look, before stepping away from the fish tank. “This is why I hate animals,” she says. “They have no decency.”

“Aw! C’mon! Now don’t say  _ that!”  _ Makoto refutes. “It’s not like they know any better!” He crouches by the fish tank, gently tapping his finger on the glass. “You didn’t know you were eating your brother, now did you? No, you didn’t!”

“Please don’t tap the fish tank,” Kiyoshi reminds him. And as such, after a careful few moments of scolding the fish, Makoto steps back and moves onto the next thing. It’s only now he takes an in-depth look around Kiyoshi’s room. But from the way his mouth makes a perfect ‘O,’ it’s not hard to conclude he’s somewhat impressed.

Kiyoshi doesn’t really get it. His room is a little lame, too, if anything. With bright yellow walls, and all sorts of nerdy posters hung above his headboard, it’s… Dorky, at best. The bed Taro never uses sits by the doorway, and a variety of books, toys, and other knickknacks Kiyoshi forgets why he bought in the first place are scattered across the top of his drawer. A hand-drawn height marker is scrawled by the doorway, on one side of it a well-worn bookcase and on the other, a desk covered in various rocks, a shitty telescope, and a DIY chemistry kit.

It’s Fumiko who takes the lead this time. She struts over to his bookcase and curiously pulls out a novel.

“I hope you don’t mind me peeking,” she says. “I’m curious to see if you have any literary classics.”

Her expression quickly shifts into one of disdain as she realizes the book she’s pulled out is indeed not a literary classic, but rather the first volume of Warrior cats. Thoroughly unimpressed, she tucks it back into the bookcase and continues to observe.

“Well, I’m not sure about too many  _ literary classics.  _ We’ve got some Dazai and some Charles Dickens, alongside some Norman Mailer. If you look closely you might find a Tachihara anthology or two, but I think that’s about it. My taste is. Uh. Mostly manga or anything to do with animals.”

“I… See…” Fumiko comments, thumbing through his impressive collection of Warrior Cats. “Corny romance novels, too, from the look of it,” she snarks, looking up from a book aptly titled ‘You One And Only Top Star ★.”

Kiyoshi’s face flushes pink. “W-What can I say!? I’m my mother’s son!” he admits, sheepishly staring at his feet. “And I’ll have you know You One and Only is a wonderful read! Much more sweet than you’d expect!”

Fumiko gives him an amused look before sliding the book back into the bookshelf. “Whatever you say, Kiyoshi.”

By now Makoto’s joined them. He curiously pursues the books as well. It seems Fullmetal Alchemist has quickly got his attention.

“This looks cool!” 

“That’s because it is,” Kiyoshi brags. “It’s about these two brothers who end up committing the ultimate atrocity trying to bring their mother back from the dead and lose their bodies in the process. They then set out to make things right, making various fri-”

“Who’s this guy?” Makoto interrupts, having pulled out one of Kiyoshi’s special edition volumes. He points to a well-dressed man snapping on the cover. “Can he shoot fire out of his hands!? That’s so cool!”

“Oh. That’s Roy Mustang. He’s a loser and he sucks.”

Makoto gives him a blank look. “Oh.”

And Kiyoshi cracks a smile. “I’m just kidding. Roy’s the best. He actually sorta reminds me of my dad. If he were like… Fun and debauche-y instead of having a stick up his ass all the ti-” Kiyoshi pauses, his jaw dropping. Wait! Is Roy Mustang just a fusion of his parents!? What the shit!? No wonder he’s one of his favorites! Only behind the softhearted Alphonse and the terrifying Pride, though, of course. Either way, he decides not to share his new assessment about his parents with his friends because it would mean jack shit to someone who’s never read Fullmetal Alchemist, much like this joke.

“He’s a good guy. He’s made some mistakes, but he’s a good guy,” he settles on instead. “He is a goofy loser though. His powers don’t work in the rain.”

“Mine neither, buddy,” Makoto says reassuringly to the man on the cover, before sliding it back in with the other books. Deciding he’s seen his fair share of handsome anime men, (In Kiyoshi’s humble opinion, not nearly enough handsome anime men) he steps away from the bookcase and turns his attention to the next thing.

Fumiko, seemingly unsatisfied with the fact that Kiyoshi doesn’t have ten volumes of Sylvia Plath or whatever the fuck, does the same. 

“Is that Taro’s bed?” Makoto asks, crouching down by the door. Before Kiyoshi can answer, he presses it to his face and takes a sniff. “It definitely smells like him!”

“Yeah. It’s his bed. But if you’re really allergic you might want to stop sniffing it before-”

**_“A-CHOO!”_ **

Andddd there it is.

“Yeah. Taro sheds like a bitch.” If that hadn’t already been made clear from the copious amounts of dog hair that coat every inch of his room.

“A cute bitch, though!”

Fumiko, on the other hand, has turned her attention to his dairy, tossed haphazardly across his desk. She raises an eyebrow as she looks its way.

“You keep your diary padlocked?” She asks.

“It’s a recent development, but yes.”

“You might be the only person I know crazy enough to do that,” she says. “Though, on second thought you might also be the only person I know crazy enough to keep a diary at all.”

“Gee, thanks…” Kiyoshi replies, not sure whether to feel flattered or insulted. Maybe it’s just the paranoid side of him thinking, but somehow Fumiko seems even grumpier today than usual.

**_“Hey! Kiyoshi! You didn’t tell me you had a Nintendo Verse!”_ **

While Kiyoshi hadn’t been looking, Makoto had made his way across the room. He kneels in front of his TV, eye level with the bright white console. There’s an ecstatic look on his face.

“Oh. Yeah. I got it last Christmas. Guess I forgot to mention it. I don’t use it nearly as much as I should…” Kiyoshi admits.

“Well now we’ve  _ gotta  _ give it a try! Pretty please!?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed, but I’m not sure-”

“I’m not too keen on the idea. I’ve heard video games are brain rot.” Fumiko pipes up.

“Are not!” Makoto huff. “How about you try them? For me…?” he begs.

Fumiko hesitates. “Well… I suppose it depends on what games you have,” she says to Kiyoshi. “If there’s anything I think I’d like… I’ll consider it.”

“Let me go and check,” Kiyoshi says. He makes his way over to his desk and opens the drawer, before proceeding to retrieve his Nintendo Verse games. He shuffles through them in his hands.

“We’ve got… Mario Kart 12... Legend of Zelda: Curse of Demise… The World Ends with You 2… Mario Iliad… Animal Crossing: Welcome Home… Splatoon: Armageddon… Pokemon Let’s Go Zorua…-”

“Pokemon Let’s Go Zorua!?” Makoto asks. “Oh! We’ve gotta play! Pretty please!?” He turns to Fumiko, fingers clasped. “I’ve never gotten to play Pokemon before! But I really want to!”

“Well… I do like Pokemon…” Fumiko admits. “And Zorua  _ is  _ very cute…” She meets Makoto’s eyes, and finally melts with acceptance. “...Yes. I think I’d like to play some Pokemon as well.”

This isn’t exactly how he’d expected the afternoon to go, but Kiyoshi doesn’t have any complaints. It’s been  _ way  _ too long since he’s picked up a Pokemon game. He instructs his friends to make themselves comfortable, and pops the cartridge into the console. He grabs the controllers, tosses them on the bed, and makes himself comfortable in a cocoon of pillows.

When he hears the word ‘Pokemon’ he doesn’t exactly tend to think of co-op, but thankfully the Verse has a newfound focus on multiplayer and cooperative games, thus the ‘universe’ based title. Let’s Go Zorua is the first Pokemon game to feature up to four players with different teams, and it is - Dare he say - A fucking delight.

...He just… Hadn’t really had anyone to play it with before.

Quickly enough they get into the groove of the game. Fumiko’s a quick learner, and Makoto already has a basic enough understanding of the mechanics from watching the anime. (Well. As much as you can get a basic understanding of the mechanics from watching the Pokemon anime.) They obtain their starters (After a quick debate on who’s going to get to keep the Zorua and who’ll have to start with something from one of the early routes. Game Freak had been generous with letting there be up to four players at all. But they’re not handing out four  _ Zoruas.  _ What do they look like!? A fucking charity company?) and set off on their journey.

They decide to race to see who can beat the first gym most quickly. Admittedly it’s not much of a competition because the console still doesn’t have a split-screen mode and they’re pretty much tethered together, but if their school has taught them anything by now it’s that the spirit of competition is the best way to spice up a friendship. Makoto ends up winning by a longshot, begging the others to let him give it a try  _ way  _ before he’s finished grinding, and simply hoping it’ll turn out for the best.

It does turn out for the best. With a few lucky critical hits and some outright  _ ludicrous  _ misses, he ends up beating the gym with his team of ragtag level 9s. He beams and says it’s all because he believed in his Pokemon. 'They knew! He swears!' Spoken like a true Pokemon anime watcher.

Which is absolute bullshit, because Kiyoshi believes in his Pokemon  _ plenty,  _ and he’s the last one able to beat the gym at level 14!

All in all, they have a good time. They spend a solid fifteen minutes roasting Ghetsis’s getup, and Makoto lets out an audible gasp the moment he first sees a Purrloin. They’re halfway to the second gym by the time they decide to take a break, and completely enamored.

Afterwards, they decide to break into Kiyoshi’s manga collection. Although it turns out only Fumiko really has the attention span for that. Makoto quickly gets bored, springing to his feet and declaring that he’s going to crawl under Kiyoshi’s bed.

"Let's  _ not  _ look under my bed!"

Kiyoshi, meek as he is, is still a teenage boy with teenage boy secrets. And there's certain things he'd rather not have his friends discover. Thankfully, Makoto doesn’t even try to argue for once, seeing as how this is the most vitriolic he’s ever seen Kiyoshi. 

...And over poorly hidden,  _ hand-me-down dirty magazines _ of all things.

Instead, he settles on fiddling around with Kiyoshi’s ‘geek corner,’ asking him if they can use the chemistry kit to light something on fire (Absolutely fucking not) and using the dollar store telescope as a pair of makeshift binoculars. He leans back over the chair and stares at his friends.

“You look ridiculous,” Fumiko comments.

“I feel ridiculous. I can’t see shit!” Makoto declares. “How are you supposed to see space with this thing?”

“You’ve not,” Kiyoshi admits. “It’s a sham deliberately meant to mislead you, and buying it was an awful decision on my part.”

Makoto gives the chair a spin. “Fair enough,” he responds, still tilting his head back over the edge. 

Kiyoshi stands and stops the chair with his foot.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Because you’re practically begging for death with how you’re using that chair. So get out, stop trying to topple it, and spare yourself a concussion before you end up crashing through my floor.”

Makoto pouts, but complies. Soon enough he’s forgotten what he was sour about in the first place, and he’s cracking joke after joke as he leans over Fumiko’s shoulder and makes unwanted and uncontextualized assumptions about the manga characters she’s currently looking at. Surprisingly enough some of his witticisms are completely on point, and even Kiyoshi finds himself cracking up a little.

It’s only now he begins to realize his anxiety has faded entirely. He’d spent so long overthinking how this visit was going to go, but somehow now that they’re in the middle of it, it's much less intimidating. He supposes that’s how most things go with him, but it’s nice to think that even in one of the places he feels most vulnerable (Having all of his interests displayed? Good god… That’s the epitome of embracing the terrifying ordeal of being known) he can begin to have fun with his friends. He knows he’s been thinking this more and more, but it’s nice to think he can let himself really trust these people

That would be… A first. A first for his entire life. And as sad as that is, it’s a pretty relieving thought, too.

Something… Still feels off, though. Even as they goof around, he can’t help but feel a melancholy mood emitting from Fumiko. Maybe it’s just his anxiety talking, but it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He’d sensed it from the moment she’d entered his house, but it only seems to grow worse and worse by the minute. He’s no fool. The way she carries herself… Her posture… And the quieter-than-usual way she speaks... Something is wrong.

The minute Makoto leaves the room to take a bathroom break, Kiyoshi turns her way and places a hand on her shoulder. “Are you feeling okay? You seem… Tense,” he admits. “You don’t need to talk if you don’t want to, but if something’s bothering you-”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Fumiko quickly reassures. A little  _ too  _ quickly. “Sorry if I seem a bit off. I’ve just had…” She pauses. “...A long day. I’ve just had a long day. But it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Okay. If you say so.”

He sincerely doubts that, but he also knows there’s nothing worse than someone demanding you tell them what’s wrong when you’re already in a bad mood. As the afternoon goes on the odd mood never fades, but Fumiko  _ does  _ seem to have a genuinely good time and chucks a pillow straight at Makoto’s face, so Kiyoshi tries to shrug it off and reassures himself that it’s probably not anything too serious.

It’s at about six that Kiyoshi’s mom finally calls them down for dinner. It’s a tad earlier than his usual time, but he’d requested she make dinner a little early to account for Fumiko’s schedule. Kiyoshi hops off the bed and motions for his friends to come with.

“We can play more Pokemon later. But for now it’s time to eat. My dad should be home by now, too.”

Now  _ that  _ sends Makoto sprinting. Before Kiyoshi can even protest, he’s out of the room and scrambling down the stairs.

Fumiko and Kiyoshi wash their hands in the upstairs bathroom, forcing Kiyoshi to internally ask himself the worst possible question of all that is “Oh my God… Did Makoto even wash his hands?” before they make their way downstairs and into the kitchen.

Sure enough, Kiyoshi’s dad is home. And it seems he’s just arrived, seeing as how Makoto’s managed to take a seat before him. Kiyoshi’s mom waves him over and says he’s just on time. As he walks over to join them at the table she leans in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, before much-less-affectionately and much more characteristically reminding him that it’s his turn to do the ‘boring shit’ and make dinner next time they’re both home.

He shrugs and says he will, before sliding into his seat. Quickly, Fumiko and Kiyoshi follow. Makoto’s already taken his usual spot on the left-hand side of his mother, who sits at the head of the table (Because… Of course she does), but Kiyoshi supposes he doesn’t mind much. He takes the second seat over on the right-hand side, next to his father. Admittedly it’s not the norm, but it  _ does  _ put him in a perfect position to be directly across from his friends, because Fumiko slides in right next to Makoto.

Irina passes everyone their plate. “You damn kids better be grateful,” she says. “I went all out with this. So you better thank Kiyoshi’s super cool mom.”

The words she says would be objectively horrible coming out of a sterner parent’s mouth. But there’s an aura of harmlessness to Irina that one wouldn’t expect from a woman who, you know, used to kill people for a living. So even if Fumiko shoots him a confused, perhaps  _ fearful, _ glance the moment his mom first speaks up, it quickly fades the moment said mom cracks a wicked grin.

And as the confusion fades, Fumiko’s face simply seems to ask an unimpressed _ ‘What sort of adult is _ **_this?’_ **

‘My mom, ladies and gentlemen,’ Kiyoshi tries to nonverbally project back.

“Thank you, Kiyoshi’s super cool mom!” Makoto says, already digging into his meal. “Or should I say  _ Bitch-sensei?” _

Irina’s teeth grit. “Aw, come on!” she cries, throwing her hands in the air.  _ “Kiyoshi Karasuma! _ Did you  _ really  _ have to share that nickname with him!? Are you  _ trying  _ to humiliate your poor defenseless mother!?”

Kiyoshi doesn’t bother to look up from his meal. “Don’t blame me,” he chides. “I didn’t teach him. You should be taking this up with Shiota-sensei.”

Irina’s jaw drops. And her knuckles whiten as she grabs the table. “He wouldn’t!” she hisses in an accusatory tone that, contradictorily enough, seems to imply she believes he indeed  _ would.  _

“I’m  _ pretty  _ sure he would,” Kiyoshi responds with a laugh.

Irina turns to Makoto. “You! Kid-!”

“It’s Makoto-”

“Yeah, whatever,” Irina says dismissively. “Who taught you that!?”

Makoto grins. “It’s a secret!” he says, making a ‘zipped lips’ motion across his mouth. “Nagisa said I can’t tell anyone, not even you,  _ soooooo…  _ Sorry!”

“Nagisa sai-” Irina shakes her head in disbelief. “Well that makes it pretty damn obvious! That fucking brat! When I get my hands on him-!”

_ ‘Pretty damn obvious,’ huh? _ Is it though…? Something tells Kiyoshi Nagisa’s gossip isn’t the secret Makoto’s talking about. He just… Knows this like he knows everything else. Like he knew about the sports festival… Like he knew about the stun clap… Like he knew what to expect from Kiyoshi’s parents from the moment he first heard of them… And like he knew to approach their son specifically.

_...No. Don’t think about that. _

Either way, Kiyoshi supposes he’s thankful for Makoto keeping this ‘secret.’ He hardly believes Makoto’s claim himself. He’s pretty sure if Makoto declared he was ‘the second coming of Korosensei,’ like some kind of religious madman five minutes into dinner, the disorienting and confused screaming at the table would be even louder than usual...

“Nooooo! Don’t hurt him!”

“Hurt him!?  _ Hurt him!? _ When I get my hands on him, I’m going to make him regret being alive!”

...Which is saying a lot.

As Makoto and his mom shout over each other, his dad curiously eyes his friends. Although visibly unamused at the two loons’ bickering, he gives Fumiko a nod of encouragement.

“Oh. I guess I haven’t introduced them,” Kiyoshi realizes. Raising his voice he stares down his mom and Makoto. “Okay. Shut up, you two.” And out of mere surprise or not, like a pack of well-trained dogs they obey. “Dad? These are my friends. Guys? This is my dad.”

Fumiko nods quietly. “I’m Fumiko. Fumiko Hisakawa,” she says, holding out a stiff hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Karasuma blinks at the overly formal young woman, but takes her hand nonetheless. “You too.”

“And  _ I’m  _ Makoto! You  _ may  _ have heard of me,” Makoto says, beaming. 

“Yes. I’ve heard a bit,” Karasuma admits. “Kiyoshi’s talked about you both. I’ve heard you’re very good friends to him.”

“Well, duh!” Makoto huffs. “He’s a good friend to us! Why wouldn’t we return the favor?”

Now  _ that  _ makes Kiyoshi’s cheeks flush. He stares down at his dinner, trying to pretend he wasn’t just complimented.

This is usually the part where his mom would reach across the table and pinch his cheeks, but thankfully his dad sits in the way this time. “Awww! Our little boy a good friend! Seems teaching him some fucking manners worked out better than I’d thought. He’s a people person, just like his mom!”

Fumiko shoots Kiyoshi another concerned glance. He shrugs in response. He’s not particularly bothered by his mom’s words. She’s probably the only person on the planet who  _ doesn’t  _ bother him with that sort of nonsense. It’s just how they talk to each other.

“‘Teaching me some fucking manners’ would seem to imply you have any fucking manners yourself, mom.:

...And it’s not like he can’t fire his own shots.

Now that one earns a ‘snrk’ from even his father. Fumiko shoots him another astonished look. His mom softly gasps, covering her heart with her hand. “Okay! So maybe your dad took care of most of the ‘manners’ thing, but I taught you people skills! I’m the reason why you’re a casanova.”

“Please never describe me making friends as ‘being a casanova,’ ever again.”

Mom grins cheekily. “No promises.”

Kiyoshi sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay. But you’re going to make my friends think you’re weird.”

“Your friends are gonna think I’m weird either way with such a little gossip constantly talking to them,” Irina snarks.

Kiyoshi can’t help but feel this is another one of those ‘on the brink of getting his cheek pinched’ moments. “Touche.” 

As that conversation slows to a natural halt (Much to Kiyoshi’s relief, considering his mom  _ did  _ just address him as a casanova in front of his friends,) Mom asks Dad about work. “How was your day? Did anything interesting go down?”

“Not particularly,” Dad responds. “It was nothing out of the ordinary. Thankfully as of late things have proceeded without issue.”

“For  _ you _ ,” Mom whines. “Thank  _ shit  _ your day was normal. Because mine was  _ wild!  _ Kawamoto was up my ass all day telling me what to do with the Ukraine mission. Like I’m not sure who put  _ you  _ on the planet, but unless  _ you’re  _ the woman who dragged her ass out there all the way to the Middle East to deal with  _ that  _ conundrum, you don’t tell me what to fucking do when I get to _ ‘Ukraine.’” _

“You’re going to Ukraine?” Kiyoshi sputters.

Irina shrugs. “It’s only a possibility,” she admits. “We’re keeping an eye on them, but for all I care it could turn out to be nothing.” She must catch Kiyoshi’s worried glance, because she shakes her head. “If I end up having to deal with it, it won’t be for a few months. Plus, y’know: Your mom’s invincible. So don’t worry about it for now.”

A weighty thing to ask. Kiyoshi’s not sure if his  _ mom  _ knows how his brain works, but  _ he  _ certainly does. He doesn’t do ‘for now.’ Future nonissue or not, he’s going to have that on his mind for the next four months. And  _ there  _ goes his sleep! Not that it’s anything he’s not used to, considering his mom and dad both have embarked on dangerous missions regularly ever since he was five.

...Doesn’t make it any easier, though.

He tries to shake the feeling of anxiety off his shoulders. He knows it won’t work, but he attempts to reassure himself with Mom’s words. ‘It could turn out to be nothing.’ Except it also could. And his Mom could die. And he’s just supposed to not think about that.

...Whatever. _ ‘They’re doing important work,’ _ he reminds himself. He knows his anxieties can be irrational, so the best he can do is ignore the gnawing feeling in his gut.

“The Ukraine mission won’t end up being an issue. I’m sure of that,” Karasuma reassures.

“And that’s what I keep trying to tell  _ Kawamoto!  _ But the man doesn’t know when to back down!” The way she says her coworker’s name drips with such vitriol Kiyoshi almost feels bad for the poor guy.

“I was saying that to reassure our son,  _ not  _ so you could slack off on your work. I’ve been wrong before, so do your best just in case. Kawamoto’s a perfectly diligent man. I’m sure he only has our best interests in mind. Please attempt to take this seriously, unless you’d prefer a transfer?”

_ “Noooooooooo,”  _ Mom overdramatically whines. “Kawamoto may be a narcissistic ho, but at least we’re  _ doing  _ something. I don’t think I could stand another ounce of boredom.” She meets Dad’s unamused gaze and pouts. “What? He  _ is  _ a narcissistic ho, okay!?”

Dad pinches the bridge of his nose. “He’s narcissistic, I’ll give you that much,” he finally admits. “But he does good work. Nonetheless...” He pauses and sighs. “If he continues to genuinely bother you, just let me know and I’ll give him a talking to.” 

Now that satisfies Mom. She leans across the table, slinks her arms around him, and wraps him in a hug. “Thank you, honey!” she exclaims, before giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. 

It’s a subtle thing to notice, but Dad melts. His cheeks just  _ barely  _ flushing, and the tiniest smile forming at the corners of his mouth, he nods in acknowledgment. “Don’t mention it.”

As quickly as it had appeared, though, his gooey center vanishes. Something-something he can’t be caught vulnerable at all, much less in front of Kiyoshi’s prepubescent friends. (Much too late for that, however, seeing as how Makoto is already gushing over how sweet of a couple they make.) He turns his head to Kiyoshi and decides to nudge the conversation towards him. “And how has school been? Any kids bothering you?”

“No, no- Of course not,” Kiyoshi reassures, before pausing. “Well… Except Makoto.” 

Makoto gasps softly, and shakes his head with indignance. “That’s no way to talk about your best friend!” He declares, as if who Kiyoshi’s best friend is is a decision he has the authority to make. “As for your son, Karasuma,” he says, turning his way. “He’s been doing super good! He’s very smart! And he just keeps getting smarter! He’s observant! And he gets along with lots of people!” 

First of all, no, he  _ doesn’t.  _ Second of all, why does it feel like he’s suddenly at a parent-teacher meeting!?

“Well… Sounds like a good report,” Karasuma comments after a long,  _ long  _ moment. Something tells Kiyoshi he’s having trouble processing being addressed without an honorific by a seventh-grader. 

“More than! He’s been helping me with tutoring and everything!” Makoto proudly grins. “Not to mention he did  _ awesome  _ at the sports festival the other day. Right, Fumiko?”

“Mmmm,” Fumiko absentmindedly agrees. She’s staring at her plate.

“Sports festival?” Irina inquires.

“Yeah! You didn’t hear?” Makoto replies. “Nagisa hosted a big event! And Kiyoshi ended up coming in second place! He led a whole team in Capture the Robbers Paintball! It was really close! He did really good. Only reason our team didn’t win was ‘cause I ended up going too far.”

Now that’s the first time Kiyoshi’s heard it described as that. What had happened wasn’t  _ Makoto’s  _ fault. He’d just… Ended up getting spooked over something stupid. He’d never want Makoto taking the blame for that. But with his parents’ eyes trained on him, he just doesn’t have the guts to speak up. Not when he sees… 

_...Is it? No. It can't be...- _

Karasuma gives him a firm pat on the shoulder and a smile. “Good job.”

_...Pride? _

“I’m surprised you didn’t tell your parents,” Makoto comments. “Like, come on! Even after I told you you should? Why didn’t you brag to them!?”

“I dunno,” Kiyoshi halfheartedly admits. “It just didn’t feel important.”

“But it is important!” Makoto replies. “Super important! Right, Karasuma?”

Karasuma takes a moment to mull that over, before nodding. “It’s important,” he agrees. “It sounds like you fought very hard.”

“Y… Yeah, I guess,” Kiyoshi agrees.

He can’t help but notice the way Dad keeps glancing towards the ground. At first he thinks it’s some sign of insincerity, and that it physically pains his father to praise him, but then he hears the tapping of tiny claws on the hardwood floor, and it clicks.

“Dad, are you feedi-”

“Don’t feed the bastard,” Mom must have noticed it at the same time as him, because she shoots Dad a playfully irritated look. 

For a split second, Dad looks almost sheepish at being caught. But that bashful expression quickly fades as he deadpans “I’ll feed the bastard all I damn want.”

Now  _ that  _ gets Fumiko looking up from her plate. She glances back and forth between Kiyoshi’s Mom and Dad, mouth agape as if she just fully processed what they were saying. “T… The bastard?” she sputters.

“Oh, yeah,” Kiyoshi clarifies. “They’re talking about him.” He points to where Taro sits patiently under the table, his tail thumping against a chair leg. “We like to call him insulting names. It’s a bit of an inside joke.”

“Oh,” Fumiko says, and slowly her head lowers. She returns to staring at her plate, distinctly avoiding looking Kiyoshi’s way.

...Or… His parents’ way.

She’s been acting weird all dinner. Her posture’s tense, and she just looks… Sad. Kiyoshi doesn’t know how to describe it. The way her fingers clutch the table… And the way she bites down on her lip… There’s something heartbreaking about it. And he can’t help but worry, even as the rest of his family continues to joke.

It all reaches a tipping point when his Mom makes some joke. Kiyoshi doesn’t even catch wind of it, but afterwards, she pulls his dad in to give her a kiss with a goofy grin.

Fumiko bolts to her feet and quickly excuses herself. Mumbling something about needing to use the bathroom she hurries towards the hallway and disappears.

No-one else seems to notice. Mom’s too busy gushing over Dad, and Dad’s too busy being gushed over. And Makoto’s still starstruck with the two of them, excitedly cracking a joke about something Kiyoshi inevitably won’t get. Kiyoshi’s half tempted to speak up - Say he thinks something is wrong. But a ball of dread quickly forms in his gut. No. That wouldn’t be right. That feels like… Airing her sadness to the public somehow.

Before Kiyoshi can even process what he’s doing, he’s on his feet as well. He murmurs a quick “I’ll be right back,” before hurrying after Fumiko. He knows it’s ridiculous and that she’s probably fine. He’s overthinking this. But he just can’t rid himself of the sickening feeling in his stomach.

The way she’d looked at him, eyes just barely watering. Could his anxiety really fabricate that? Kiyoshi… Doesn’t know. But not a single person had budged, even as it felt to him that Fumiko was crying for help. Screaming - Shrieking for anyone to  _ please notice,  _ but to no avail as the world turned a blind eye.

...Kiyoshi’s probably projecting a little. But it’s a familiar feeling. And even if he’s wrong, he’d rather be safe than sorry... Than let her feel that way for even a moment.

...No-one deserves to drown alone. Much less one of his best friends.

He feels a strange sense of relief as he checks the bathroom and finds it empty. If nothing had been wrong and he’d simply ended up following the poor girl to the bathroom he’d probably have died from embarrassment. But that relief is quickly replaced with dread. If she hadn’t been telling the truth,  _ then where is sh- _

His train of thought skids to a halt as he hears a noise down the hall. It’s faint… Soft… But distinctly the sound of ragged breath. His steps hurry as he makes his way towards the sound. And the feeling of dread in his gut only worsens as he turns the corner and lays his eyes on Fumiko.

She sits on the ground, back against the wall. With her legs curled up against her chest and her hands clutched tight around her knees. At first Kiyoshi hardly processes what he’s seeing, but as he catches the quiver of her shoulders, he comes to a horrifying realization.

_...Fumiko’s weeping. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday someone asked me if this was going to be a stressful chapter, and I told them truthfully: "This is going to be a mostly chill chapter."
> 
> Mostly.
> 
> GAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA. Sorry about this, everyone. Originally I was going to have the visit to Kiyoshi's house be one chapter, but it ended up being like 17k words, which I just couldn't upload in good conscious. (Both because that would be inane to ask you to read, and because if I'm trying to churn out WEEKLY CHAPTERS, 17k is NOT an ideal chapter size). So I split it into two halves! And... Well... What do you know? That just ended up leaving us on a bit of a cliffhanger. :3c
> 
> This is another one of those chapters I've had visualized since VERY early in the fic's development, and I'm very excited to have reached it! Cliffhangers aside I had TONS of fun writing Makoto interact with the Karasumas, describing Kiyoshi's room, and writing over-dinner dialogue.
> 
> I made sure to try to display the Karasumas as dysfunctional but loving. They definitely have lots and lots of issues (And those issues ARE messing up their kid,) but they love each other, and I hope that shows!
> 
> Some songs that helped write this chapter were The House by Air Traffic Controller and Family by Mother Mother. Yeah. That's it. Not a very exciting chapter musically FGDHSJHDJSKL. Either way, though, they're excellent songs: So give them a listen!
> 
> The next chapter will be up in a week, so let me know what you thought in the meantime, and I'll see you then! o7


	17. Family Time/2nd Period

Kiyoshi’s not sure what to do when he finds Fumiko weeping in his hallway.

Softly hiccuping into her knees, she sits curled up on the floor. With her back to the wall and her face buried in her knees, she doesn’t look his way... She doesn’t even notice... And all Kiyoshi can do is freeze up.

...Suddenly it feels like he’s walked in on some horribly intimate moment. That he’s seen something he was never supposed to. Something Fumiko never would have wanted him to see. Panic gripping at his heart, he takes a step back.

He… he should go. Before she notices. This isn’t right. He  _ needs  _ to go.

One step backward, then another. And he freezes once more. No. No. It can’t be right to leave her like this. Not when she’s so clearly hurting. He… he needs to help! Isn’t that why he’d followed her in the first place!? But how is  _ he  _ supposed to fix this!? He’s no good with these sorts of things! He doesn’t even know what’s upsetting her!

_ ‘I… I should get Makoto,’  _ he thinks.  _ 'Makoto would know what to do. Makoto is better with people.'  _ But he can’t will his feet to move. No... That’s not right, either. If… If he hadn’t been supposed to see this, daring to breathe a word of it to anyone else just feels cruel.

But what… What does that leave? He can’t - He’s not supposed to - He’s never - Shit! Why hadn’t he seen this coming!? He thinks he feels ill.  _ Oh my God… Oh my God… Oh my God… W.. What is he suppo- _

Fumiko’s gaze shoots up. And suddenly it's locked on him. Her head jerks in shock and her eyes widen as she quickly reaches up to wipe them. Taking a deep breath, she composes herself and feigns a look of surprise.

“K.. Kiyoshi?” she sputters. "What… What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

Is… Is everything okay!? _ Is everything okay!? _ That’s what he should be asking her! She can keep up that tough facade all she wants, but Kiyoshi sees right through it. With shaking hands and watery eyes, it’s clearly taking all her strength just to keep herself from bursting into tears right here and now.

Kiyoshi gulps, awkwardly rubbing at his shoulder. “...Y... Yeah. Everything’s fine,” he says. “I just got worried about you. You ran off really abruptly. Is something wrong?”

Fumiko’s mouth opens, then closes. Staring intently at Kiyoshi, she balls her hand into a fist and blinks hard. “...N... No… Everything’s… Everything’s…-” But she can’t even finish her sentence. Her words trail off... The breathless hiccups return, and tears drizzle down her cheeks. She averts her gaze from Kiyoshi, nails digging into her palms as she weeps and mumbles “Goddamn it…  _ Goddamn it…” _ under her breath.

Kiyoshi hurries over. He can’t just stand by. Though the moment he’s by her side, he freezes up. His hands left hanging awkwardly by his side as he hopelessly tries to reassure her. “W… W- What happened? What’s wrong? Did- Did something my mom say upset you?” 

Fumiko only cries harder, desperately wiping as her eyes she shakes her head and mumbles rebuttals “No... No… That’s not it.”

“M… My dad? M-Makoto?” Kiyoshi asks. “T...Taro! O.. Or me…?” He pauses, his own hand quivering. “Is… Is it something I did…?” His voice is low. “D… Don’t tell me I hurt your feelings--”

“No… No!” Fumiko shouts, choking up. “It’s not you! It’s none of you…!” she sobs. “I… It’s just… It’s just me… It’s  _ stupid…” _

“I’m sure it’s no-”

“Yes it is!” Fumiko cries, burying her face in her hands. Weeping turning into sobs, she shakes like a leaf as she curls up even further into her knees “It’s… It’s stupid… It’s petty… Y… You wouldn’t get it!”

Kiyoshi hestiates, but crouches. Lowering himself to her level, he sits by her side and places a firm hand on her shoulder. She jolts, but makes no effort to pull away.

“F… Fumiko… I spend  _ every day of my life  _ dwelling on things I think are stupid, and petty, and  _ ridiculous.  _ And it is  _ suffocating.  _ I don’t want you to feel like that. So… So please… Talk to me. I won’t think it’s stupid. If it upsets you this much… I’ll know it’s anything  _ but.” _

Fumiko hesitates, taking a shaky gulp. And she motions to shake her head. But as Kiyoshi gently squeezes her shoulder and whispers “You can trust me. I promise,” she struggles to catch her breath and blink back the tears.

“Your family just… Your family just seems… Like they… Like they...” She can’t will herself to finish. Looking away from Kiyoshi, she lets out another weak sob.

“...Like they what?”

**_“Like they love each other!”_ **

Before Kiyoshi can even fully process what she’d said, Fumiko reels back. Scooting away from Kiyoshi, as if in shame, she shudders and shuts her eyes tight. “N… Not that that’s a bad thing. It’s n-  _ I’m glad your fam-”  _ She cuts herself off and hisses in sharply through her teeth. “It’s a good thing. I know that... It just… Makes me… Gah! I don’t even know! I told you: It’s ridiculous!” 

Kiyoshi slowly takes his hand from Fumiko’s shoulder. And squinting softly, he gives her a concerned gaze.

_ His… His family loves one another? _

“Does your family… Not?”

Fumiko’s lip trembles at the notion. She gasps in, then out, as if trying to wrap her head around the thought. And then, bringing her hand to cover her mouth, she lets out a low whimper and nods. “T… They hate each other!” she moans. “They hate each other and my sisters and  _ me…” _

Kiyoshi reaches out a hand to place on her knee. “I… I’m sure they don’t-”

**_“Yes!_ ** They do!” Fumiko bawls, batting it away. “I told you you wouldn’t get it! Your life’s _ perfect! _ But nothing I do will  _ ever  _ be good enough for them! I try… So…  _ So _ … hard, Kiyoshi. Why isn’t it enough!?” Before he can open his mouth to respond, she’s rambling more. “I... Is it me? Am I just broken? _ D… Do I deserve this?” _

“N- No! I’m sure you don’t deserve this!” Kiyoshi refutes, his head spinning. He… He doesn’t know what to do! He’s never seen Fumiko like this! He… He doesn’t even know entirely what she’s  _ talking  _ about! W… Where can he even begin?

“T… Then why?  _ Why the hell do they treat me this way!?”  _ Fumiko’s staring at him with piercing eyes, her gaze tearful and her breaths ragged.

“I… I… I dunno--” Kiyoshi sputters. He almost asks what they’ve been doing, but quickly thinks better of it. If she’s so upset already, he has a feeling asking her  _ how exactly her parents mistreat her  _ will probably only make it worse. But if not that - Then what? Kiyoshi’s heart is pounding in his chest, and he thinks he’s halfway to crying himself.

_ ‘No…’  _ He reminds himself. _ ‘Not… Not now.’ _ Fumiko needs him. He forces himself to take a deep breath… And then counts to ten. Trying his best to keep his head on his shoulders, he asks himself what  _ he’d  _ like if he were feeling that way, reaches out to clasp her hand, and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I… Don’t know, Fumiko. But you  _ don’t  _ deserve it. I can promise that much,” he reassures. And trying to still the quiver in his voice, he stands “I… I’ll be right back, okay? I’m gonna grab tissues. Try to catch your breath in the meantime. Just… Breath in, count to three, and breathe out. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Fumiko hesitates. “Y… You won’t tell anyone else, right?”

“No,” Kiyoshi says. “Of course not.”

Finally, Fumiko gives a tiny nod. “...’lright. I’ll try.” And rubbing at her eyes, she desperately attempts to catch her breath. 

Kiyoshi watches her for one moment more, murmuring a quick “Okay. Just stay right here... Please,” before whirling around and making his way towards his bedroom.

There, he’s quick to grab a box - No,  _ two boxes  _ of tissues. And cradling them in his arms, he’s equally as quick to make his way back towards Fumiko. He… Still doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but reminding himself of methods people like his parents or Shiota-sensei have used to reassure him in the past, he returns to Fumiko’s spot in the hallway and crouches down to hand her the tissues.

She takes them, mumbling a quick thanks as she blows her nose. Carefully tossing tissue after tissue to the side, she wipes at her eyes and attempts to stifle her sobs.

“I… I’m sorry I- I’m sorry I-” she breathlessly whimpers, stumbling over her own words.

“No… No, it’s okay,” Kiyoshi reassures. “Take your time.”

“...I’m sorry I ended up acting out in your home like this. There it is again: Fumiko ruins what was supposed to be a fun time for everyone. W… Why am I not surprised? A… And over something so _ ridiculous  _ no less-!

“It’s not ridiculous...”

“It is. It really is,” Fumiko sighs. “None of this has  _ ever  _ bothered me before. I don’t know what’s wrong with me for it to suddenly be an issue now…”

Kiyoshi doesn’t have an explanation either. But it is  _ not  _ stupid. He’ll stand by that much. He’s had… Plenty of pointless freakouts in his day. And this isn’t even comparable to them. This isn’t like Kiyoshi being scared of the concept of never making friends. This is Fumiko  _ legitimately terrified  _ of her own family. And he doesn’t know what to say to possibly explain away  _ that. _

So… Kiyoshi does what Kiyoshi does best. All he can do. He listens. 

“I… Don’t know, either. But… I can try to help, okay? Just… Just let it all out.”

Fumiko stares at him, sniffling in deeply, before giving another pathetic nod and sobbing into her hands.

As she incoherently murmurs and weeps, he stays by her side. And telling her that  _ none  _ of this is dumb, he hands her tissue after tissue. She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, and he places a gentle palm on her shoulder. When she leans into his comforting embrace, he does the least he can do and wraps his arms around her. He holds her tight and promises it’ll be okay.

...He knows it’s not true. He’s been the one held sobbing before, and he’s heard the same empty reassurances. But knowing at least  _ some  _ of the immeasurable ache in Fumiko’s chest, he finally wants to believe what he’s heard a thousand times before:

“...It’ll be okay.”

He helps her through the breathing exercises he knows so well... Holds her hand and tells her to count to ten… Instructs her to focus on her senses… And with each deep breath helps shaky gasps fade into soft shivers. He knows deep down he’s doing nothing to chip away at the true issues eating at her heart, but it’s enough to ease her anxiety for now. Slowly but surely, her sobs recede into gentle tears.

“I… Just… Always thought my family wanted what’s best for me,” Fumiko murmurs, reaching for another tissue. “And… I thought they were right about that. About everything. Because… I mean - They made me  _ better  _ than everyone. My… My heritage… My upbringing… It was supposed to make me  _ mature.  _ Respected… Perfect. But now that I know that that’s not true… T… That I’m  _ not  _ better than anyone… It feels like everything is falling apart.”

For a moment, she looks ready to start sobbing again. But Kiyoshi squeezes her hand and reminds her to breathe. Shuddering, she inhales… Then exhales.

“I just… Don’t get why this is happening now. I thought it was making me better. But… Now I know it’s not. I’m going through this for nothing. It’s… Not making me stronger. It’s just making me sad. You have no idea how much that hurts.”

Kiyoshi frowns deeply. 

“...Yeah. I don’t.”

“I was trying not to let it bother me. Because… I guess things are getting better for me. Shiota-sensei is going so out of his way to try and give me the best chances possible. Why can’t I just be thankful for that? I know I don’t really deserve all his effort, so it just feels… Ungrateful for that to still not be enough for me. And yet… Even so, I just couldn’t handle it. I want what you have, Kiyoshi. You just seem… So lucky. And I  _ know  _ that’s an ungrateful notion, too. I  _ know  _ it’s not true, but...”

“...But…?”

Fumiko takes another deep breath. “...Seeing your parents joke with each other from across the table… Their inside jokes and the way your mom leaned over so ridiculously to kiss your dad… Is… Is that what family is?”

Now that’s a loaded question. And not one Kiyoshi’s sure he knows the answer to, either. There’s… A lot of different sorts of families out there. And he’s seen his fair share. From the stilted, dysfunctional, and caring grips of his own family, to the open and high-spirited energy of Shiota-sensei’s. 

All of his parents’ students… All of his ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles,’ they live wildly different lives. From the three children nuclear family tree that the Chiba-Hayamis have grown... To Nakamura-san and Okuda-san’s long-distance relationship... To Fuwa-san simply returning home each evening to an affectionate cat. Is it… Possible to define family so easily? Kiyoshi sincerely doubts it. And even yet, mulling over the concept in his mind, one similarity pops up time and time again:

Love. Genuine love. Romantic, familial, or platonic. A desire to be around someone and a desire to support them. And perhaps that does not always manifest itself in inside jokes or unnecessary smarm, but he can’t help but shake the feeling that Fumiko  _ had  _ actually hit the nail on the head.

...Family is the ability to be comfortable around each other. And she hasn’t been afforded that luxury.

“I… I think so,” he finally answers. “I mean… I think it varies… But I think family does come down to the little things.”

Fumiko nods, but looks away. And quietly, she whispers “I fantasize about it all the time, you know. What it would be like if my parents were proud of me. If… If me and my sisters loved each other. It’s all I have. I’ll lay awake at night and think about it while I try to fall asleep. What… It’d be like to love each other. And even then, I don’t think I ever really grasped that.”

“...Grasped what?”

“T… Those little things. Up until very recently,  _ I didn’t know families did that.  _ I… I didn’t know they made fun of the dog or had sword fights with paper towel rolls! I thought that family was just… Being perfect. And that’s why we could still be one. But it’s more than that. You all… Make each other laugh. And even when you’re yelling at each other… Even when you’re insulting each other… It’s coming from a heartfelt place. Even with so much time and energy I’ve dedicated to the thought of having what you have… I’ve never considered that. How messed up is that?”

Kiyoshi anxiously runs his fingers through his hair. ‘Very,’ is the answer. ‘Very messed up.’ But he doesn’t dare suggest it. Somehow… That feels… That feels like just suggesting she’s even more broken. A… And that’s not true! She… She  _ deserves  _ to live a normal life. She  _ deserves  _ to live a happy life. But how can he even begin to articulate that when the things she’s saying are so miserable they seem to carve an empty hole in his gut?

…

“...We’ll be your family, then.” He blurts it out before he can even think it through. And although some instinctive part of him regrets it, embarrassment clawing at his gut, a defiant indignance rises to his chest. For once in his life, he doesn’t care how it sounds! Seeing… Seeing his friend so upset… It’s enough to make his fist clench!

Fumiko’s staring at him, her jaw agape. And before she gets the chance to stop him, it’s Kiyoshi’s turn to ramble.

“My… My family isn’t perfect, either. A-And I’m not trying to garner your pity! This is about you! But it’s true! My dad is never around, and if he  _ is,  _ my mom sure isn’t. I mean - You heard them talking about Ukraine earlier. It’s like that  _ all  _ the time. They’re always busy planning something or working overtime or going off on ‘missions.’ And it terrifies me! I… I lie awake at night, too. And I stare at the ceiling… And I think… ‘What’s going to happen to me?’ Because… They’re all I have. And… I need them. And… I don’t know what I'd do without them.”

“Or! Well, they  _ were  _ all I had!” he specifies. “But now… Now things are different. Because I have you guys. And while… While I don’t think I’ll ever  _ not  _ be stressed about my parents, I feel  _ better  _ around you. C… Confident, even! Like… I have a reason to not think about it.” It’s the first time in a long time he’s had the chance to speak of his fears aloud. And although some part of him wants to curl up and hide - Screams at him he’s making this about him, another part of him knows this for certain:

He hasn’t always had the luxury of being comfortable around his family, either.

“I guess… I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’ve missed out on a lot of the normal family stuff, too. Going on weeklong vacations or seeing movies with my whole family premier day… It’s stuff we’re too  _ busy  _ to do. A lot of things are. And I think in some ways I’ve lived my whole life in fear I’d never get those chances. But… But things can be different now. Because I have you. And things can be different for you. Because you have me. And… I know I can’t replace your family. I know you could never replace mine. But… It’s nice to think we could fill a little bit of that gap: Just the three of us.”

Fumiko’s silent. She stares at him, an indecipherable look in her eyes, and looks just about ready to burst into tears again.

And just as quickly as it had dissipated, Kiyoshi’s fear returns. Quickly, he backpedals. “I- I mean- I know that sounds stupid… I just meant it like… Like-”

Fumiko interrupts, “No. It’s not stupid.”

“...It’s not?”

“No. I think… I think it’s sweet.”

And for what feels like the first time this evening, Fumiko cracks a tiny smile.

“Then… Then let’s do it! I… I know I don’t have it as bad as you, and that I’ve experienced a lot of things you haven’t gotten to… But… But there’s a lot of things I’ve never gotten to experience, either! A… And I’d like to experience them with you. With Makoto. I… I want us to be the people who can finally give you that chance. T… To have inside jokes and paper towel roll fights! H… Hell! Haven’t we already!? It’s like… ‘Maybe you  _ can  _ have a chance.’”

_ ‘And maybe I can, too.’ _

“If… If you’d like that, I mean-”

“...I’d love that.”

And before Kiyoshi even gets a chance to seal the deal, Fumiko’s arms are around him in another hug. She squeezes him tight, as if saying ‘...Thanks. I needed that.’

What he doesn’t have the guts to say, however, is that he needed this too. And as such, the coward he is, he simply wraps his own arms around her and squeezes back.

“It’s a deal, then,” he says. “Just the three of us against the world.” He pauses. “Er- Well, maybe not against the world! We have Shiota-sensei and the rest on our side. And of course I still love my parents, but-! The three of us a team! A… And we can insult the dog! And pull off stupid schemes together! A… And we won’t have to worry about ever being alone… Because… We’ll have each other.”

At this point, Kiyoshi’s not even so sure who exactly he’s trying to reassure. But Fumiko quivers ever so slightly as she pulls away, and gives him a vulnerable look.

“...Promise? That… That you’re not lying about all this… That you mean it. From the bottom of your heart.”

...And he does.

“I promise.”

Some tension finally seems to fade from the air. And although Fumiko’s still not looking too great, she finally finds it in her to stand. “I… Think I’m ready to go back.”

Kiyoshi nods, getting to his feet. “Alright. Follow me. I’ll help you wash your face first. Since - Uh - I’m taking it you don’t want anyone to know you were crying?”

Fumiko nods back. And she follows his lead to the bathroom. It’s here that Kiyoshi finds himself passing on another well-known routine of his. In the same way he’d helped her count down until she could breathe, he instructs her to splash her face, wipe at her eyes with a damp rag, and dab water on her wrists. 

“...You’re like an expert at this,” Fumiko comments.

“Yeah. I’ve long since mastered the art of crying alone in my room,” Kiyoshi jokes. “So don’t you worry. No-one will find out about this. Not even Makoto.”

...At least, he hopes not. Because something tells him she cares more about Makoto’s opinion of her than his dumb parents’. So… Here’s to keeping his fingers crossed they’ll mask the tears well. There’s no way to know for sure, though. Because on one hand… Makoto _ is _ pretty damn intuitive with emotions. But on the other hand, it’s not like he’s ever accused Kiyoshi of holing himself up and crying in secret.

Plus, you know. He’s plenty distracted with Kiyoshi’s parents.

“To be honest, I don’t think he’d actually make fun of me,” Fumiko admits, wiping at her eyes with a rag. “Or… Well, I  _ know  _ he wouldn’t actually make fun of me. He’s… Had it hard, too. So I suppose this is just more of a me thing. I... Feel like it’s a crime to be caught ‘vulnerable.’”

Kiyoshi frowns. “...Yeah. I get that.”

“But… I think he gets that, too,” Fumiko admits. “He doesn’t let himself be sad either. One time he came to me in the middle of the night, and, well…” She pauses and shakes her head. “I suppose it’s not my place to disclose, but it  _ is  _ unfair of me to presume he wouldn’t get it. Thank you for mentioning him earlier. When it came to our…” She hesitates. “Our family. I think he’s a lot more like us than he’d first let on. So… He needs that, too.”

...Like us? And what does that mean? A deeply insecure and miserable person who’s afraid to open up? Now that’s just a depressing thought, to imagine applying to Makoto  _ or  _ to himself.

It’s not the first time he’s heard Fumiko bring it up, though. And he can’t help but agree. Even behind Makoto’s positive demeanor, there’s… Something more. And it’s not just something dark. It’s something sad, too.

That had been the driving factor behind why Fumiko thought Makoto had picked up the Korosensei thing in the first place. And although details about Makoto’s life have continued to paint a sad story… Something still doesn’t add up.

“Fumiko? Can I ask you something?”

Fumiko looks up from the sink. “Yeah. Anything.”

“Do you think Makoto is actually  _ really _ connected to Korosensei?”

Fumiko’s quiet. She brings her hand to her chin and stares at the floor, as if deep in thought.

“I… I know it’s stupid to even _humor it!_ Because- It’s impossible! B-But something’s genuinely weird, Fumiko! The stuff he does… The things he knows… I can’t help but think that there’s genuinely something… Something…-”

“Something special about him?”

“Yeah,” Kiyoshi says. “That there’s something special about him.”

The room falls silent.

“I… Don’t know,” Fumiko finally admits. “You’re right: Makoto knows all sorts of things he has no way of knowing. It’s peculiar at best and unnerving at worst,” she says, wringing the towel. “I expected this to be something he’d lose interest in quickly, but it hasn’t turned out that way. Not only that, but Shiota-sensei and the rest seem to believe him unequivocally, which leaves me feeling… Conflicted.”

“How so?”

“Shiota-sensei is someone who strikes me as a person that would do anything for his students. He’s… Already done so much for me. So I suppose this could simply be an extension of that part of his nature. And yet… I have a hard time believing even Shiota-sensei would be able to fake that genuinity over something so… Personal to him. I mean… I’ve  _ read up  _ on this stuff. Korosensei saved those kids’ lives. They had to be heartbroken when they lost him.”

“They were,” Kiyoshi confirms. “And… Shiota-sensei took it harder than anyone.” He’s heard the stories from his parents. Nagisa had been a shell of himself for a while there. “I mean, he is the one who had to…”

God. He doesn’t have the guts to say it.

“Yeah,” Fumiko simply says, turning her head away as if not wanting to dwell on the thought of her beloved teacher being forced to commit manslaughter by the Japanese government. “Not to mention I’m not sure Makoto is even  _ capable  _ of doing the deep dive research that would be necessary for this sort of ruse. He doesn’t exactly have the attention span.”

Kiyoshi blinks. “So you believe him?”

“Well, I don’t know about  _ that _ ,” Fumiko replies. “It’s… A wild thought. But I must admit I’ve considered it. Because it’s… A nice thought, too.” She gives an awkward chuckle and averts her gaze. “That someone so important would choose  _ us  _ of all people to be friends with.”

_ Is that how she sees it? And yet… All this time… Kiyoshi hasn’t been able to shake the feeling that…- _

“Well… I… I’m not so certain about that,” Kiyoshi admits, knitting his hands. “I’ve been… Worrying. What if… What if Makoto  _ didn’t  _ choose me? With all of this coming to light… What if he only became friends with me because of my parents? I mean, he  _ knew  _ my last name… What if… If he just wanted to get close to them… And… He doesn’t actually care about me?”

Fumiko’s quiet. And then it’s her turn to place a hand on his shoulder.

“...Then what reason would he have to be friends with me?”

“H-Huh?”

“Even if Makoto did have some ulterior motive in regards to you, which, for the record,  _ he does not,  _ he would have no reason to have befriended me. He wouldn't have gone out of the way to give me the time of day if he was really the sort of person who decided who he cared about based on things like that.”

She… Has a point. Kinda. She _was_ sorta an antisocial and cruel problem kid, which _was_ sorta Korosensei’s bread and butter, but that’s an objectively horrible thing to say to your best friend who just had a mental break, _and_ mostly beside the point.

“I mean… I guess you’re right… But… I dunno.” Kiyoshi shrugs and sighs. “You’re just, like… Cool and funny and smart. And… You’re so strong. Who  _ wouldn’t  _ want to be friends with you?”

“And you’re  _ not  _ cool or funny or smart or strong?” Fumiko inquires.

“I mean… Not really,” Kiyoshi admits, to which Fumiko gives him a stern look. He bites his lip and shrugs once more. “I’ve just always thought of myself as a very ordinary person. Even in comparison to my parents. And I guess that’s just sorta passed on to everyone I meet. No matter who they are, I can’t help but think ‘You’re so much better than me.’ And… I’m working on shaking it. Sometimes I feel really good. During the sports festival, I almost let myself forget it. But it’s like... Always there, lurking in the back of my mind: ‘They’re going to realize how useless and annoying you are eventually. And then they'll ditch you.’”

“That’s a shit way to think about yourself.”

Kiyoshi jolts. He… Hadn’t expected such a tongue-in-cheek way of putting it from Fumiko.

“...Yeah. It is.”

Finally, Fumiko’s looking a bit better. It’s almost like she’d never been crying at all. “Kiyoshi…” She says. “Do you… Do this a lot?”

“Do what?”

“Cry, then go in the bathroom and hide it.”

Kiyoshi’s quiet.

“I mean… Yeah, I guess.” 

It’s an under exaggeration. He’s always been a crybaby. Sometimes it feels like he’s been crying constantly ever since he came out of the womb. It’s one of those things that comes with being so sensitive. And hiding it just ended up feeling natural in response. He hadn’t wanted to add more stress to his parents’ already hectic lives, and as for everyone else around him, the last thing he’d needed was to give them more ammunition as to why dislike him.

...Damn. That  _ is  _ a shit way to think about yourself.

Fumiko frowns. “Well… Don’t you dare hide it around me. Not anymore. If you’re sad, just let me know. Because from now on, we  _ don’t  _ hide things. At least… Not things like that,” she says, voice wavering. “You shouldn’t have to cry alone, either. Because you’re  _ just  _ as special as Makoto. You may not be him, and you may not be Korosensei, but you don’t need to be. You’re you. And I don’t think anyone else could have calmed me down like you did back there. So from now on you let me know if anything is ever bothering you…-”

“Uh… Everything  _ ever  _ bothers me,” Kiyoshi admits.

“Then you’re going to tell me,” Fumiko sternly says. But face softening, she smiles and says “...So I can comfort you next time. Seeing as how you people have gone so out of your way to treat me with kindness, it’s… Only obligatory I return the favor.”

And slowly but surely, Kiyoshi smiles back. “...Alright. I’ll tell you. So you can help.”

“Good,” Fumiko says. “Because I’m starting to get the impression that that’s just what family does.”

That… Had really meant a lot to her, huh? It had been a spur of the moment declaration, but… It makes Kiyoshi feel good… That his words had had so much power… And that he’s capable of being someone so important to Fumiko. Something tells him she needs that. And he could use some makeshift ‘family,’ too.

“...Yeah. I think so too,” he agrees. And giving her a heartfelt smile, they make their way back into the dining room.

Every head in the room perks up as they return. Makoto leans forward across the table, shouting a loud “There you are! What happened!?”

Kiyoshi gives a shrug as he returns to the table. “Long story,” he replies, desperately hoping no-one is making the assumption they were, like, making out in the bathroom. Namely because, first of all, he is gay and second of all that would just be plain weird to do to a crying woman. He is  _ really  _ not the casanova his mother seems to believe he i-

“Did’ja hotbox the bathroom?”

Now  _ that  _ derails Kiyoshi’s train of thought.

“D-Did I  _ what!?”  _ Kiyoshi sputters.

“Did’ja hotbox the bathroom?" Makoto says. "Y’know, like… Wee-”

“I-I know what weed is!” Kiyoshi snaps in response. “No! I didn’t- We didn’t hotbox the bathroom! What is  _ wrong  _ with you!?”

Good news, everyone! His friends and family  _ don’t  _ think he’s straight! Bad news, everyone! They  _ do  _ think he’s a goddamn pothead!

Makoto’s cracking up. Even as Fumiko’s face flushes an embarrassing red, he cackles into his hands.

“A-Absolutely  _ not!”  _ she declares, utter horror in her voice. “W-what sort of- of  _ degenerate lowlife  _ do I look like!?”

“Like one of us!” Makoto declares. And although it’s plenty sweet considering all of what just went down, Kiyoshi is pretty sure none of them have ever  _ looked  _ at a marijuana in their goddamn lives.

“You have never done weed in your life, Makoto,” Kiyoshi says.

“Hey! Not saying I have! But I’m saying we all  _ do  _ look like lowlives. Cool, sexy, lowlives.”

Fumiko gives him an exhausted look. “Gee, thanks.”

It’s upon this that Mom stands. And as she motions to make her way towards the hallway, Kiyoshi’s jaw drops. 

“W-What are you  _ doing!?”  _ he asks, bolting to his feet. “For the last time, we didn’t hotbox the bathroom! You don’t need to  _ check!” _

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Mom says, flipping her hair.  _ “I’m _ going to hotbox the bathroom if you're too pussy to. That’s a fan- _ tastic  _ idea.”

Dad stands, shooting to grab her hand. “You are not,” he says. “As an official employee of the government, I am not letting you  _ hotbox our bathroom.”  _

Mom groans dramatically, but Kiyoshi catches the way her lips upturn the moment Dad clasps her hand. And exaggeratedly wiping her brow, she moans “Oh,  _ come on!  _ You know I’m just fucking with them! Let me have some fun!”

“Absolutely not. If you’re someone who considers selling Junior High children on the fact that you do marijuana ‘fun,’ I think I need to reconsider my life choices.” After a short pause and a glance at Mom’s pout, he quickly tacks on “Joking, of course. Love you. But I am still not letting you ‘hotbox’ the bathroom.”

Mom grumbles, calling him a “wet blanket,” under her breath. But nonetheless, with her ruse exposed, she returns to her seat alongside dad, holding his hand beneath the table.

As dinner returns to some sort of normal, Kiyoshi swears he catches the upturn of Fumiko’s lips as well. And when Makoto cracks some dumb joke, she finally lets herself bowl over with laughter.

...Because she finally knows that’s her laughter to share as well.

* * *

Happy times can only last so long, however. Soon enough, 7:30 rolls around, and that means it’s time for Fumiko to head home. Quite frankly Kiyoshi wishes she could stay longer, but he knows enough about her home situation now to know that’s simply not possible. As such, he simply ushers her to the doorway, gives her a smile, and tells her he’ll see her tomorrow.

She stops in the hallway, pauses for a single moment, and wraps him in a hug before she goes. She whispers a soft, “Thank you,” and squeezes him so tight he thinks his eyes might just pop out of his skull, before nodding, and agreeing she’ll see him tomorrow. Blinking fast for the second time today, she tells Kiyoshi’s parents it was wonderful to meet them, says goodbye to Makoto, and makes her way out the door.

Kiyoshi watches her go. And before he even knows it, she’s left his line of sight entirely: Off to return to the harrowing home that had made her so stressed in the first place.

It makes him feel a little sick. Makes him feel a little helpless, too. But he tries to dwell on how relieved Fumiko had looked when he’d promised he’d be there for her. There’s only so much he can do… But he hopes it’s at least enough to ease a little bit of her pain.

It’s sad. He’d never realized how much she was hurting. But… He hopes now that some things are out in the open, they’ll be able to be there for each other. Maybe things will finally be different.

...At least… For him and Fumiko. Things are still weird with Makoto.

He knows it’s most likely paranoia, or even something to do with what had happened last Friday, but… The way Makoto gushes over his parents still leaves an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. One even Fumiko’s words can’t do much to relieve.

And… It’s not even just about how Makoto might perceive him. Makoto makes his mom  _ laugh!  _ Makoto makes his dad  _ talk!  _ Kiyoshi can hardly do that, and he’s their  _ son!  _ If he can manage to get through to them… Manage to lower his guard around them… Well, then, he really must have some supernatural explanation-- Because Kiyoshi can’t begin to fathom it otherwise.

If Makoto senses his doubts, however, he surely doesn’t let Kiyoshi know. In fact: it’s Makoto’s idea to stay the night. He begs Kiyoshi to let him have a slumber party. And although things are still… Weird, Kiyoshi’s not exactly opposed to the idea. It’s a fun way to spend a Tuesday night, and his parents are just relieved to see he’s finally close enough to someone to  _ want  _ to have a slumber party.

They head up to his room soon after Fumiko’s departure. Taro follows in their footsteps, much to Makoto’s delight. Kiyoshi pops on a movie (Pokemon: The First Movie, for the record) and the two of them munch on some popcorn. By the end of it Makoto’s tearing up over Mewtwo’s heartbreaking plight, but a few tissues passed his way quickly solves the issue.

(God! Kiyoshi’s just become the tissue dispenser boy, hasn’t he!?)

Afterwards, they brush their teeth and get in their pajamas. Neither of which Makoto technically  _ has. _ But Kiyoshi has an extra toothbrush and an oversized pair of PJs to share, so all’s good. 

When it comes time for them to actually try and get some sleep, Makoto offers to sleep on the floor if they “have an extra futon or anything.” An idea which Kiyoshi quickly rejects. To be honest, his queen size bed is a little lonely most of the time, and with such a massive mattress he’d feel pretty shitty making one of his only friends sleep on the goddamn floor.

Makoto comfortable snuggles into bed. That is: After trying to curl up at the foot of the bed like a dog, but he insists that was a joke. (Plus: Taro’s more than a little miffed at someone trying to take his spot.)They discuss whether or not they want to go to sleep yet, and after a little bit of debate, they decide they can afford to stay up a bit longer. Although Kiyoshi reaches to flick the lights off, Makoto decides to mess around with the Nintendo Verse more, and Kiyoshi reads a book by the dim light of the tv.

He knows it’s a bad idea to stay up any later than they already have on a school night, but his Mom’s said he “needs to do irresponsible things more often,” so he supposes this is his chance.

They make small talk as they wind down. Talk about school… About the movie… About Kiyoshi’s parents.

To be honest, he’s not really reading. He’s thinking, more than anything. About today. About Fumiko. About his family. About Makoto... And about Korosensei.

He can’t get his mind off of earlier. He knows the claim he’d made about Makoto was cruel. Fumiko’s right. He’s… Just not that sort of person. And even still, watching Makoto’s face illuminated by the flickering light of the TV screen… There’s some sort of feeling Kiyoshi can’t shake.

“...Makoto? Can I ask you something?”

Makoto gives a shrug, not looking up from his controller. “Go right ahead.”

“Like… Something important,” Kiyoshi adds on.

Now that catches Makoto’s attention. He pauses his game and turns his head Kiyoshi’s way. “...Yeah. Of course. What is it?”

Kiyoshi hesitates.

“So… You’re… Really Korosensei, right?”

“Yeah,” Makoto says. There’s not a moment of hesitation. He answers the question like he knows it as well as anything else about himself.

...Kiyoshi’s quiet.

“I mean, I guess I don’t have any way to prove it to you if you don’t believe me,” Makoto says. “But I know who I am. And so does Nagisa. And I guess to me ‘proving’ it to anyone else doesn’t matter. It’s just a fact.” He gives a shrug and sends his glance back towards his controller. He’s itching to get back to the game. “Is that all?”

“No. I was… Actually wondering something about that. The Korosensei thing.”

“Then hit me with it,” Makoto says, looking enthused. “I can answer  _ any  _ questions you’ve got about the guy. Wanna know about the time we hijacked a baseball game?”

“The time you wh-? No!” Kiyoshi says, shaking his head. “No. I don’t want to know about the time you hijacked a baseball game.”

“A shame. It’s a good story,” Makoto says, sticking his tongue out. “What is it, then?”

Kiyoshi takes a deep breath. Can… Can he really say this? He hesitates for one moment more, before finally speaking up.

“...Makoto, are you only friends with me because of my parents?”

He can’t bring himself to look at Makoto. Instead, staring at his shaking hands, he lets the silence sink in.

_ “What?” _ Makoto asks, whipping around to face Kiyoshi. “Why would I-?”

“Because you’re Korosensei!” Kiyoshi interrupts, voice strained. It’s hard not to make out the shock and disappointment in Makoto’s tone. But flopping down, he covers his face with his pillow and groans. “Listen, Makoto. I… Know I’m nothing special. A-And don’t try to reassure me about that! It's true. I’m just… Average. All this time I’ve been wondering why someone like you would dedicate so much time to someone like me. But… I think I finally get it.”

“Kiyoshi-”

_ “Let me finish.  _ You heard my last name, didn’t you, Makoto? On… On the first day of school. Knowing… What you did, you reasoned out who my parents were. My… Parents you were close to. A- And so you decided to deal with me for the chance to see them again, didn’t you? I… I saw the way you were interacting with them!” Kiyoshi’s voice cracks. “Like… Like old friends. Like… Someone important.” And blinking back tears, Kiyoshi lets out a frustrated groan. “...Is that the only reason you decided to start hanging out with me?”

He knows it‘s a harsh question to pose. But it’s one that had come out in one instantaneous, cathartic stream of thought. The possibility has been weighing on him ever since Makoto brought up the Korosensei concept in the first place, and it has only seemed to grow more and more suffocating with time. It had been… Too easy. And too suspicious, too. For everything to just line up like that.

Makoto’s at a total loss for words, struggling to find any way to refute it. But Kiyoshi sees the desperation in his eyes.

...He should have known from the beginning that good things don’t just ‘happen’ to Kiyoshi Karasuma.

Finally, Makoto manages to speak up. Hushed and wounded: “...Is that really how I made you feel?”

All Kiyoshi can find it in himself to respond with is a halfhearted nod.

Makoto scoots closer. Tossing the Verse controller to the side, he brings himself towards Kiyoshi. And reaching out a hand, he says. “Okay, first of all… Look at me. Take that pillow off your face.”

Kiyoshi hesitates, but eventually places it to the side. He wouldn’t be the first person who’d made themselves vulnerable and got caught crying tonight. Makoto pats the seat next to him, as if imploring Kiyoshi to sit up.

...Kiyoshi can’t. Not yet.

Makoto’s looking at him in a way he doesn’t ever think he’s seen Makoto look before. Eyebrows creased and mouth drawn back into a frown-- He’s staring at Kiyoshi with concern in his eyes. When he seems to realize he won’t be getting Kiyoshi to be sitting up, he simply scoots even closer and speaks softly.

“...Second of all:  _ Of course not, Kiyoshi!  _ I… I don’t even know what would make you think that.” He pauses. “Or… Well, I sorta do. But I promise that’s not it.” And placing a hand on Kiyoshi’s shoulder, he says, “Don’t get me wrong. I was  _ super  _ excited to see your parents. I missed them. A lot. But I didn’t plan this! If you want the truth, Kiyoshi, I didn’t know  _ anything  _ about Korosensei when I first met you.”

“W… What?”

Now  _ that’s  _ new information. If… If he hadn’t known, then-

“I mean… I guess I’d had a few weird dreams by that point, but I didn’t start putting any of this together until months into the school year. I didn’t know who ‘Irina’ or ‘Karasuma’ was! I was still trying to put together who  _ I  _ was. It was only later that everything started to make sense and I figured out how lucky I was!”

‘...How lucky he was.’ Kiyoshi hates the way he says it. Like… Like his parents are the real reward from their relationship. Like they’ve always been. For everyone he feels like he’s known in his entire life.

Maybe… He’d just known subconsciously. Even before he knew who or what he was, he knew what he needed to do, and who he needed to connect with to get there.

“Then why, Makoto? Why on earth did you become friends with me?” He gives a bitter, wounded, sigh. “...And why on earth are you  _ still  _ friends with me?”

“What do you mean, ‘why did I become friends with you?’”

“What I  _ mean  _ is that I’m a narcissistic coward who overthinks everything and everyone, and there’s  _ literally _ no reason you should care about me this much.”

Makoto shoots him a baffled look. “Okay. You are  _ not  _ a narcissist. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you were a narcissist. But you want to know the real reason I’m friends with you, Kiyoshi?”

“...Yeah. I do. Because otherwise, I think a little part of me will always believe I don’t deserve it.”

“This… Might seem a little insulting, but to tell the truth: I thought you seemed  _ lonely. _ ”

Oh  _ shit.  _ HE’S the problem child.

“Nagisa told everyone to find a partner for the group project. And I didn’t have any friends yet, either. So I just… Watched. And everyone looked around. The Hisoka twins instantly made eye contact. Riko reached over and tapped Fumiko’s shoulder. Even the shier kids, like Chiharu, waited until they spotted someone else looking a little nervous, then walked their way with a smile. But not you. You just… Sat there. Staring at your desk like ‘I don’t want to put anyone through the burden of knowing me.’ It made me sad. So I decided… Instantly! ‘That’s the one! I wanna be his friend’”

Kiyoshi feels a little ready to choke up. Had his insecurities come across so loudly? And even still… The idea that Makoto would look at him hurting like that and decide ‘No. That’s not true. I want to know you...’

...His heart is aching.

“B-But don’t get me wrong! I’m not your friend out of pity. The more I got to know you, the more I got to like you, Kiyoshi. You’re genuinely funny. And smart. And kind. And I wish you’d be nicer to yourself, because… I think you’re the coolest.”

He’d already been blinking back tears before, but that’s the tide that breaks the dam. Tears trickling down his cheeks, Kiyoshi wipes at his eyes. And looking Makoto’s way, he gives a halfhearted smile.

“...You really think so?”

“Yeah. I do.”

Finally, he finds it in himself to sit up. Bringing himself to his knees, he scoots closer to Makoto.

“It’s funny. Fumiko told me the same thing earlier.” He pauses. “Er, something similar at least,” he quickly corrects. “I guess… I just have trouble believing things like that. And I know that’s not fair. Being around me… Caring about me… You don’t deserve to have your every move psychoanalyzed like that… Considered ingenuine. What a way to repay you for dealing with me. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to me.”

“‘Dealing with me,’” Makoto repeats. “Cut the crap. Cut that out, first of all.”

“...Yeah. Sorry. I’ll try,” Kiyoshi responds. “...What… A heartless way to treat the people who care about me.”

“And a heartless way to treat yourself.”

“...Yeah.”

“I didn’t realize the Korosensei thing would upset you so much,” Makoto admits. “You wanna know the real reason why I shared it with you guys? Because I thought you’d think it’s  _ cool!  _ Well… That, and because I trusted you. Nagisa told me not to tell anyone. And… I get that... But it was kinda lonely, too. And you guys were different! You weren’t my students or- Or my cowor- Or, well your parents! You were my friends! It didn’t matter if you believed me or not, because it wasn’t like I was spitting on the…" He pauses "On the pain I put you through.”

Kiyoshi raises an eyebrow. “...The pain you put them through? Is… Is that really how you feel about everyone else?”

“I dunno, man,” Makoto admits. “When I first told Nagisa the truth, he just cried and cried. And some part of me didn’t get it. Like… ‘I’m right here!’ But… Another part of me… Something smarter… Couldn’t help but think ‘I really messed you up, didn’t I?’”

He knits at his hands. And for a moment, Kiyoshi thinks he catches Makoto frown. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

“But that’s besides the point,” Makoto says. “This is about you. I guess what I’m trying to say is I wouldn’t have told you if I thought it’d upset you! That wasn’t my intent at all! I just wanted to share part of myself with you!”

“I know- I know,” Kiyoshi says. “...This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I just overthink everything.”

“Well, I mean: I clearly didn't get my point across right if it was bothering you so much…”

“Everything bothers me: Makoto. You know that. And while I think part of that is just my anxiety, I think another part of it is just… Me. I can’t peg it all on something wrong with me, can I? That feels… Irresponsible. Maybe I'm just...” He pauses. "Maybe I just don't want to try."

“I don’t think so,” Makoto responds. “I mean, you can’t really help it, can you? You’re sick.” He pauses. “Not that you’re sick-sick! You’re  _ sick.  _ Like cool.”

Kiyoshi snorts.

“No, I know I’m not cool-”

Makoto punches his shoulder. “You are cool! You’re cool because you  _ want  _ to get better. And… You can. At least, I want you to. I want you to be someone who can be happy with yourself. Because you deserve it.”

“...And because you have a bit of a track record with getting at-risk kids to finally have some self-confidence?”

Makoto cracks a goofy smile. “That too.”

...It’s contagious. Kiyoshi can’t help but crack a smile, either.

“I’m glad we got this cleared up,” Makoto says. “Before it could start to bother you any more. You might not know it, but I’m not always the most perceptive guy, either. I’d been so caught up in the excitement of seeing those two again, I hadn’t been willing to realize I was being sort of a dick to you. And I’m sorry for that.”

“You don’t need to apologize…”

“But I  _ should!”  _ Makoto refutes. “I  _ want  _ to. So here it is: I’m sorry for making you feel bad, Kiyoshi. And as full disclosure: Yes, your parents are important to me: But you are too. And completely separately. Coincidentally. Weirdly, even. But I like you for  _ you.  _ And the day I prioritize your dorky stick-in-the-mud parents above you is the day I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I don’t  _ want  _ to punch you in the face.”

“But I’d deserve it!” Makoto huffs, throwing his hands in the air. “Theoretically, that is. Because I won’t do that. That’d be stupid. You’re my pal.”

“I’m your  _ pal?”  _ Kiyoshi repeats.

“Yeah! You are! And I care about you! So don’t let me be a dummy anymore.”

Kiyoshi ‘snrks,’ but admittedly the weight on his chest is beginning to let up. Fumiko’s right… What  _ had  _ he been thinking? Makoto’s not some sort of manipulative sleazebag who uses people to his own gain! He’s a moron who uses words like ‘pal’ and ‘dummy’ unironically. He couldn’t tell a lie if his life depended on it.

...At least, Kiyoshi hopes so.

He can’t help but remember the way Makoto's smile faltered earlier. When he talked about Nagisa and the rest.

Maybe he’s been worrying about the wrong person here.

“I won’t,” Kiyoshi reassures. “Just as long as you don’t let me be a dummy, either. Let me know next time I’m overthinking it.”

“Of course. Just as long as you let me know next time you’re bothered.”

“Yeah. I will.” And Kiyoshi pauses. “...You do the same, though, Makoto.”

“Huh?”

“Next time something’s upsetting you, I don’t want you to face it alone, either. You can’t be happy all of the time. And you can’t expect yourself to be. So… Next time something like Shiota-sensei’s reaction is eating at you, you can tell me. I want you to. You don’t need to keep up this weird facade all the time.”

“It’s not a  _ facade…” _ Makoto argues.

“Well, this weird  _ standard, _ ” Kiyoshi corrects. “...Earlier, something happened with Fumiko. And it made me realize: Sometimes the only thing the three of us are gonna have is each other. So… I wanna be there for you guys. As much as you’ve been there for me. Because… We’re like family. Let me do that much, at least.”

Finally, Makoto nods. “I’ll… Keep that in mind,” he says. “...’Cause I wanna be honest with one another from now on, too. No more hidden insecurities. Just Makoto, Kiyoshi, and Fumiko against the world.” He pauses. “Er- Maybe not against the world. The world is good. I… Think it’s a really bad idea to think of it as anything but. But… The three of us watching each other’s backs, at least.”

The world’s good, huh? It’s funny. That’s supposed to be one of those things that just goes without saying. But the reality of the situation is a lot more nuanced than that. People are… Scary. And people are cruel. Is it really possible to not turn your back on a society where you’re terrified everyone is out to hurt you?

Kiyoshi… Still doesn’t know. But that’s besides the point. Because if there’s anyone who won’t hurt him, he finally knows it’s these two.

He wants to let himself have this.

“...Yeah. I want to have your back, too,” he says, reaching for tissues. He dabs at his eyes and sighs. “Thank you for talking to me. That was really getting to me. But… I feel a lot better now.” And he means it.

“Hey. No problem. I actually feel a lot better now, too.”

And that comes as a relief. It’s funny… To think that Makoto also has worries that eat at him. But now that Kiyoshi knows just what he’s dealing with, he damn well intends to try his best to help.

“We should probably get some sleep,” he admits. “It’s pretty late.”

Er- Well - It’s eleven. So not  _ that  _ late. But for two teachers’ pets, that’s practically a goddamn death sentence.

Makoto gives a tiny nod. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m kinda bored of games, anyways.”

Kiyoshi stands to shelve his book. And as he makes his way across the room Makoto leans over to turn off the Verse. Then, slipping into bed, it seems they’re finally ready to sleep.

“...Night, Makoto.”

“Night, Kiyoshi.”

Well, if only it were that easy. Kiyoshi _ is  _ sort of a chronic insomniac who takes two hours to fall asleep at best. He’s half tempted to grab his phone and send a text Fumiko’s way telling her everything had turned out alright, but he doesn’t want to keep Makoto up. He decides he’ll just wait until morning. Instead, he turns over, and tries his best to get some shuteye.

“Wait. One more thing-” he says. And there goes that whole ‘getting some shuteye’ thing.

Makoto cracks open an eyelid. “What is it?”

“I just wanted to say sorry if I wake you up in the middle of the night. I have a lot of trouble sleeping So if I like have to get out of bed to pee and wake you up I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quiet but I just wanted to say something in advance because-”

“Dude. I don’t care. It’s fine,” Makoto says with a chuckle.

“Or I might- Like? Kick? Sometimes I have really bad nightmares. So I’m sorry if I - Kick you in the face.”

“You won’t.”

“Oh. I will-”

“I can handle it,” Makoto says in a voice that seems to imply he’s taking this as a challenge.

“And that’s not even getting started on- Like- Sleep paralysis? If you wake up and see me staring at the ceiling in sheer terror, don’t worry about that either. I just can’t move! At all! But don’t worry because it’ll be over in a minute or two.”

“What the shit?” Makoto asks.

“I know, right?”

“I didn’t even know that was a  _ thing-” _

“Me neither. Until I got it for the first time when I was four! Fun stuff,” Kiyoshi snarks. 

To be honest, he’d thought he was having a stroke or something. (What four year old is even supposed to know the word ‘stroke!?’) He’d had a panic attack in his parents’ bed and cried on his bewildered mom for an hour straight afterwards.

“How does that even happen?”

“Something to do with waking up the wrong way. You get stuck in between being awake and being asleep. Your body doesn’t process it’s awake so you can’t move, but you sure as hell are conscious. And that’s not even mentioning the nightmare hell demons! Because yes, you  _ will  _ hallucinate seeing as how you’re half asleep.”

_ “That- That- That shouldn’t be allowed!” _ Makoto sputters. 

“Yeah! It shouldn’t! But the human body is a horrible vessel and constantly doing things that it shouldn’t solely to torment its inhabitant.” 

He hardly even realizes he’s raised his voice until Taro shoots him an exhausted look. Oh, right. It  _ is  _ nearly midnight. He supposes he’d just been so caught up in the euphoria of ranting about the dumb shit his sleep-deprived and anxious body regularly puts him through he’d forgotten other people were trying to sleep.

“Good news is,” he says, lowering his voice, “It’s become a lot less common as I’ve gotten older. I just figured I’d give you a heads up. Y’know- Just in case.”

“Yeah,” Makoto says, yawning. But despite his tired demeanor, he seems in no mood to sleep now. He scoots closer to Kiyoshi, eyes wide as he whispers another question. “What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“What?”

“You said you see like… Nightmare demons while it happens. What’s the spookiest?”

Kiyoshi gives a lazy shrug. “Oh, I don’t know,” he says. To be truthful, he does. But the last thing he wants to be remembering, much less  _ telling Makoto about,  _ is his worst sleep paralysis demon. He’s trying to go to sleep, for Pete’s sake. He doesn’t need to be describing a hunched over and emancipated figure bleeding from its eye sockets or whatever the hell. That’s just  _ freaky.  _ “Like I said, it’s been a while.”

“Weirdest, then.”

“Eh?”

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen?” Makoto asks, his voice a whisper. “It doesn’t gotta be scary. I mean, you see all sorts of super weird, funny stuff in dreams. If you’re half-dreaming, half-awake, you gotta see something weird at least  _ once in a while,  _ right?”

Kiyoshi thinks it over for maybe half a second. And face flushing red, he turns over. _ “Let’s talk about the scariest, actually-”  _ he says, voice cracking.

“W-What!? I thought you said you didn’t remember!”

“I do now!” Kiyoshi lies through his teeth. “And it’s  _ much  _ more interesting than the weirdest.”

“Hey! No!” Makoto replies. “Now you’ve got me curious! You  _ gotta  _ tell me what the weirdest thing was!”

“Uh- No.  _ Nope. No way in hell.” _ Kiyoshi huffs, reaching to cover his face with his hands.

“Awww! Come on! Pretty please!? What happened to telling each other  _ everything!?” _

“That was, about, like, things that were legitimately bothering us. Not about the dumb shit I was scared of when I was five.”

“Well now this  _ is  _ legitimately bothering me! It’s gonna eat at me forever if you don’t tell me! C’mon! Just spit it out!”

“Absolutely not!” Kiyoshi repeats. “It’s  _ really  _ not anything that interesting.”

“Then you can share it!” Makoto insists

“No!”

“Please!?”

“No!”

“Please!?”

“No!”

“Please!?”

Kiyoshi lets out a low sigh. Something tells him that the stubborn Makoto isn’t going to let up no matter what he says. And Taro’s staring at him with a pleading expression. He may as well bite the bullet if he wants to let the dog, or himself, for that matter, get any sleep. 

“...Okay. But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

_ “Ipromise,” _ Makoto quickly swears as he leans in in anticipation. “You can tell me  _ anything.” _

Kiyoshi takes a deep breath.

“...It was you.”

Now  _ that  _ takes Makoto by surprise. He jolts and jerks away from Kiyoshi. “W-What does that mean!?” He yells. “H-How recently was this!?  _ Am I really scary!?” _

“Not  _ you-you, _ dumbass!” Kiyoshi hisses, slapping a hand over Makoto’s mouth. Taro looks just about ready to cry. “Korosensei!”

“Oh,” Makoto replies, his shoulders lowering. But before a moment can even pass, he’s back to his shouting. “Wait! What does  _ that  _ mean!? I wasn’t scary, was I!?”

“To a five-year-old… Yes! You were!” Kiyoshi refutes, feeling his own face flush red with embarrassment. Still, he’s not even nearly as humiliated as he’d expected to feel admitting this. If anything, he’s feeling a brunt of the embarrassment secondhand through Makoto acting like a doofus.

“How did you even _ see me!?” _

“My parents showed me a picture of you!” Kiyoshi says, grimacing. “Thought it’d be some cute fun thing! ‘Meet the guy who got us to fuck and conceive you!’ Something tells me they hadn’t picked up on the whole ‘generalized anxiety disorder’ thing yet, because I had nightmares for weeks!”

Makoto pauses. “Wait. Your parents kept pictures of me? That’s so  _ cute!”  _ he gushes, bringing his palms to cup his cheeks. Though quickly, his wounded expression returns. “But that  _ doesn't matter! _ The important thing here is that you think I’m a horrific monster who, like, eats babies!”

“Hey! No! What!? When did I say  _ that!?”  _ Kiyoshi sputters. “You don’t eat- I never said you  _ eat babies!”  _

_ “You implied it!” _

“Now you’re just putting words in my mouth!”

“And after I tried  _ so hard  _ to appear non-threatening and appealing to children!” Makoto wails

 “That was your idea of nonthreatening!?”

“That was my idea of  _ adorable!” _

“To middle schoolers, maybe! To a  _ literal toddler,  _ however, you looked like a goddamn serial killer! You gotta admit you at least had a  _ bit  _ of a slasher smile!”

“No!  **_No!_ ** I was  _ delightful!”  _ Makoto shrieks.

“If that’s your idea of delightful, I don’t want to know what your idea of scary is!”

“My best friend thinking I’m nightmare material! Now  _ that’s  _ scary!”

“Hey! I never said - Now I don’t -  _ Only when I was five!” _ Kiyoshi sputters.

Things continue like that for a while. And they only wind down when Taro finally gets sick of their shit and decides to sit on Kiyoshi’s chest.

“See?  _ Taro  _ agrees with me,” Makoto brags. “He thinks I’m _ adorable.” _

“First of all,” Kiyoshi says. “I never said  _ you _ aren’t adorable, I said  _ Korosensei  _ wasn’t. Second of all: I think the only thing Taro agrees with is the fact that we need to get some goddamn sleep.”

“Fair enough,” Makoto admits, giving the dog a firm pat. “I still think he agrees with me, though.”

Kiyoshi gently pushes Taro off of him, sandwiching him in between the two of them. Taro doesn’t seem to mind, however; Letting out a contented chuff as Makoto wraps an arm around him.

“Agree to disagree?” Kiyoshi finally asks, coming to the acute realization that if he spends all night hysterically arguing with Makoto over where Korosensei lies on the uncanny valley scale, he’s going to feel like horseshit in the morning.

Makoto huffs, but nods. “Agree to disagree,” he says.

Kiyoshi rolls over once more. And shutting his eyes, he begins to drift off to sleep.

“...It’s funny,” Makoto admits.

“...Eh?” Kiyoshi groggily responds.

“How the tables have turned,” Makoto muses. “When you were little, you were scared of me. But now? I’m gonna protect you from  _ all  _ the nightmares.”

Kiyoshi yawns. “I’m not sure if you can do  _ that  _ Makoto.”

“Oh yes I am,” Makoto argues. “Ain’t nothing gonna dare to scare my best friend while I’m here with him. I’ll kick those sleep paralysis demons’ asses.”

“...They’re not real demons, Makoto,” Kiyoshi admits with a chuckle.

“I know that. But that won’t stop me,” Makoto says with a smirk.

“Even if they’re you?”

Makoto snorts. “I know they won’t be.”

...And somehow, Kiyoshi knows that by now, too.

“Alright. Thanks, Makoto,” he says, pulling the covers up over himself. He knows there's no talking this wackjob out of it.

“No prob.”

“...Night.”

“Night, Kiyoshi.”

And true to Makoto’s word, Kiyoshi doesn’t have a single nightmare that night.

In the morning, when he wakes up the gentle sound of Makoto's snoring, a smile comes to his face. And just the two of them, with the sunlight filtering in through Kiyoshi's window, Kiyoshi has to wonder...

Maybe Makoto  _ had  _ protected him after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 17 and Family Time part 2, ya'll! Sorry about the wait ahaha. But I hope you see why I decided to split it now. A LOT happened in this second half, and it'd have been one massive-ass chapter if I kept it in one piece.
> 
> This was an INSANELY emotional chapter, but thankfully it seemed to have a pretty peaceful and even cathartic resolution to both of its main issues, so I'm thankful for that.
> 
> If you haven't found out by now, a big theme in my stories is found family. It's something I wish Assclass itself had explored more considering just how bad the bio families of its characters are, and it's something I'm having a lot of fun exploring now. 'Family' is something the Moonrise quartet found in each other after insanely stressful childhoods, and it seems to be something the Newtime trio has found in each other during their own insanely stressful childhoods. Hopefully that's a good sign for their futures.
> 
> As a note this IS where I'm gonna have to step in and please ask you to not ship Fumiko/Kiyoshi. I can't really stop you from shipping Makoto/Fumiko and Makoto/Kiyoshi considering they both certainly have had their Moments, but as a note Kiyoshi's gay. So let's Not. Additionally, it's important to me that the idea of 'found family' isn't always romantic, and that insanely intimate things like hugging and comforting someone while they're upset can be a purely platonic thing. It's the sort of kindness no-one would have a second thought about bestowing towards their friends in real life, but in fiction its a sort of lens that's always perceived as purely romantic, and just this once I'd like to step out of that box.
> 
> Speaking of box, the hotboxing the bathroom bit is a joke I've had planned for months, and again I am SO glad to finally have it on paper. Why does it seem like most of these 'jokes I came up with way before I even started writing AIS' tidbits are about shit Irina says? I guess she's too funny for her own good.
> 
> And, of course, the reveal that Kiyoshi and Fumiko, to a lesser extent, finally believe Makoto on the whole 'Korosensei' thing. They've spent so long on the fence about it, but it seems his anecdotes have finally swayed them. And set off Kiyoshi's anxiety, but that's a given with how Kiyoshi Is.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing the scene w Kiyoshi and Makoto finally having a conversation confronting those anxieties, and I hope you enjoyed it too! Alongside w the additional silliness afterwards. 
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were Look At Me from Violet, Small Hands by Radical Face, Who Are You Really by Mikky Ekko, and The Best of Friends from The Fox And The Hound.
> 
> The next chapter should be another two week wait. Sorry about that ya'll. It's a big one, and NOT one I can split in two. But it's an emotional roller coaster, and I hope you're excited! Tbh from now on please expect two week waits as the norm and one week waits as the surprise treat, because these chapters keep getting longer and longer, and if I write any faster I'd risk burning out.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! And make sure to let me know what you thought! See you soon! o/


	18. End of the Line Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for pretty heavy description of emotional abuse in this chapter! Tread carefully o/

Makoto gets the gist of the family thing pretty quickly.

To be honest, it’s cute. It’s nice to think that he, Fumiko, and Kiyoshi have each others’ backs. He’s learned pretty quickly that neither of them are exactly content with their home situations... And if ‘found family’ is just a step above ‘best friends,’ that’s a step he’s willing to take.

Hell, they’ve  _ all  _ sorta become family in his eyes. Not just those two. Nagisa and Karma and Kayano. Even Gakushuu. Miss Nao and Taro, too! 

...Well, they’ve always been. At least… the first three.

It’s weird to think he didn’t have much of a ‘real’ family back then. When he was Korosensei. He still can’t remember much of what happened to his parents-- but he knows deep down in his gut he’d been alone. That’s why the E-Class had meant so much to him, right? He’d been the first to come to them and say, “You don’t need to be alone anymore. You’re one of us now,” and they’d gladly returned the favor for him. Been his first and only family.

_ (Were they his first family? He can’t seem to shake it. The thought of a boy whose face he can’t make out. But as soon as he reaches for it, it vanishes. Buried with the other things he just can’t remember. A woman’s shriek and a vengeful, bloodshot eye...) _

But things are a little different now. He has a blood family. And while that doesn’t exactly stop him in his tracks of considering everyone else a part of his motley crew, it does leave him wondering.

He has a dad. He has a mom. And while that doesn’t make him need Nagisa or the rest any less, he wishes they would be a part of his life, too. He wishes his dad didn’t come home half catatonic, and he wishes his mom hadn’t left when he was three. It’s never something that’s really bothered him before, seeing as how he tries not to let anything bother him, but the more perfect things seem, the more unright it seems to settle in his gut.

...He wants to make things right with them. Or at least… Dad. He doesn’t know where he’d begin to find Mom.

‘Cause even as happy as he is now, he’s always been the more the merrier type of guy. Sure, things are scary, but he’s never really TRIED to amend them before. Especially not with the knowledge he has now. The wisdom of Korosensei’s years. He’s fixed broken families before…: Father and son reuniting under the dim light of the moon, and mothers promising to let their boys go by torchlight.

...The happy endings people like Itona and Nagisa attained.

Things have never been right with dad. But he’s never tried before. Surely there has to be something he can do.

He just has to figure out where to begin.

He brings the idea up to Kiyoshi. Says he’s going to try to break through his dad’s cynical exterior. Things have been rough up until now, but it’s not like they’ve ever had a heart to heart.

“I don’t think it could be that easy, Makoto…” he voices, giving him an aside glance.

“Well have you ever had a heart to heart with your family about how you’re feeling?” Makoto asks.

“No…” Kiyoshi admits, looking somewhat ashamed.

To be honest, Makoto thinks he should. He thinks Kiyoshi’s family would get it more than any other. And Kiyoshi is more articulate than he’d give himself credit for. He’d managed to voice his feelings to Makoto after all, hadn’t he? But he also knows these sorts of things are hard for Kiyoshi. And as such, he simply vows to give him the confidence to approach them through his own success.

“Fumiko, too.”

“Don’t say that to her,” Kiyoshi begs.

“Why?”

“Trust me when I say her family is the worst.”

...The worst. He gets that much, at least. The terror Fumiko had shown of her parents when he’d climbed into her window still sticks with him. And even yet… can it truly be impossible for one to find, at the very least, closure with their parents? It’s not like anyone sets out to just do evil things… To hurt the ones they’d supposed to protect. It has to be a fluke. A mistake. Something to be set right. Some sense to be knocked into them. That’s all.

And as such, he begins to orchestrate a plan in his mind. Something to say. Something to do. 

What had Nagisa done? What about Itona? Hazama and Kimura? It’s far away now. And yet… Makoto knows they’d found some sort of peace, right? They had to have. To be where they are today… And still… Makoto doesn’t know where to begin to ask.

As such, he’ll tackle this one alone. Like he always has. And that’s okay! He’s a role-model! And he’s going to do this right. By the time he’s done chatting with his dad, they’ll be as close as two peas and a pod.

What should he say?

“Dad, I know you’ve very stressed having to take care of me and all, but I really wish we talked more.”

“I’m not sure if you know, but because of how I was raised I lashed out and stole things for a bit. I don’t want to make those mistakes ever again. So please: work with me.”

“Pops, when you yell at me, it really reminds me of my teacher’s mean mother, and that makes me sad. As for why I know about my teacher’s mean mother, that’s a long story, and it’s one I’d love to share with you.”

...Bluh. Maybe he should just follow his heart and say whatever he feels in the moment. But is Kiyoshi right? Can it really be that simple? If so… Why hasn’t he fixed things until now? And what will they be like after he does?

Either way, it seems he has a long process in front of him. But he knows deep in his heart it’ll all be worth it in the end.

* * *

Ring-ring! Ring-ring! Ring-ring!

Nagisa just about jumps out of his skin every time he gets a phone call. Hard not to, when he’s half-expecting it to be his husband’s abusive father every time. By now he and Gakshuu have fully formulated a plan of what they’re going to say when Nagisa finally cuts Gakuho off, but it’s still a pretty dreadful experience just having to sit there and anticipate his final call. 

And Nagisa knows it can only be bothering Gakushuu even more than it’s bothering him. He can see the way Gakushuu’s jaw clenches each time Nagisa’s phone rings. And he can’t exactly blame him for the stress. This is a huge final step for Gakushuu. As much as it’s a declaration of freedom, it’s also the decision to let go of his father forever. And Nagisa can’t help but imagine that’s all sorts of cathartic and petrifying all at once.

Nonetheless, as the phone rings, Nagisa holds a finger up. And standing to step away from the dinner table and his family, he murmurs a quick “Let me take this.” Then, giving Gakushuu a look as if saying ‘I’m sure it’s not him, but I’ll get you if it is,’ he steps out of the room.

He makes his way into the living room and carefully sits down. Giving his phone a good look, he quickly realizes his fears were unfounded and it is indeed not the infamous Gakuho. In fact: The caller ID on his screen is a familiar one, but the opposite of a name that would invoke dread.

“Sakura!” he says, answering the phone. “Long time no see! Er- Hear, I guess. Long time no hear.”

There’s a chuckle from the other side. “Hey, Nagisa.”

“You know- Because we’re not. Talking in person.”

“Yeah. I get it,” Sakura replies, deadpan. “I  _ hear  _ you’re the same awkward loser as ever.”

 It’s Nagisa’s turn to give an awkward chuckle. “Yeah, pretty much,” he says, making himself comfortable on the couch. He crosses his leg over his knee. “Listen: I can’t talk too much. Having dinner with the family and all. But how have you been?”

“The shit? Why are you eating so late? Sounds like your schedule’s gone to hell.”

Nagisa sends a glance towards the clock. Huh. On second thought, he does suppose 8 o’clock, at night is a pretty ungodly time to be eating dinner. But on second-second thought (Third thought? Probably third thought) it’s less ‘dinner’ and more ‘second dinner.’ 

Oddly enough, they’ve taken to pretty much having two dinners a night, seeing as how they need to make sure to get something on the kids’ stomachs. (Makoto’s, especially.) But as delightful as the kids are, they have sorta been butting into their ‘family time.’ There are certain things they just can’t discuss with them around like ‘intergenerational trauma’ or ‘their sex lives.’ And as such, after feeding the kids at 6 or so, once they’ve ushered them home, they’ve started simply communing in the kitchen more than anything to keep a hold on that personal family time. Half the time they don’t even eat, but sometimes there’s no better time to catch up on your day than dinner.

...Even fake dinner.

“Yeah. Sorta,” Nagisa admits. “Long story. Things have been crazy with the students.”

He can practically imagine Sakura rolling her eyes over the phone. “You are a mess,” she says, huffing. “I’ve been good, though,” she admits. “Work’s been well. Pretty sure I’m close to convincing the boss to give me a raise.”

“Remember what I told you: Be assertive. But not too assertive. Just be confident.” To be truthful Nagisa is the least qualified person to be giving her advice on this considering he’s literally self-employed. But hey! He worked under Paradise’s administration long enough to get the gist of things... He thinks.

“Will do,” Sakura says.

“What about that boy you’ve been seeing? How are things with that?”

Sakura lets out a low groan. “Ugh. Don’t even mention it. Now  _ that _ was a disaster I think I’d much rather forget. The last thing I need to be focusing on right now is boys anyways considering my taste in them is fucken horrible.”

Stings a little considering he now knows she had a crush on him back when she was an Elementary Schooler, but that’s beside the point.

“Yeah. No need to rush it. You should focus on your work for now. Sorry to hear about the breakup though.”

“Pah. It doesn’t matter. He was a clown.”

Nagisa can’t help but smile. She’s as resilient as ever.

Crazy to think she’s already a working woman. With a job. And a boss. And ex-boyfriends. It feels like just yesterday she was a little girl afraid of being bullied. But now? She doesn’t take shit from anyone. She’s 27, for fuck’s sake!

Good lord... Twenty-seven. The very thought gives him a headache. How had she gotten so old so fast? For a minute, he can even almost understand how poor Makoto must feel.

_ ‘Jesus fucking Christ!’ _ The little Korosensei in his head exclaims, breaking character with its newfound profanity.  _ ‘Nagisa!? Thirty!? That's not possible!' _

It’s okay, Imaginary Korosensei. Nagisa can’t process it either.

“But enough with the small talk bullshit. I called to ask about you,” Sakura admits. “I know we’ve been Snapchatting a little, but I’ve meant to ask how the year’s been. How are the kids? Any other students smashed your TV in?”

“No, Sakura. No other students have smashed my TV in.”

“Damn shame. That Konishi kid was the best.” Sakura snorts. “I get it if you don’t have much time to chat now, though. If you need to be getting back to dinner, you could always call me later.”

“That would be nice,” Nagisa admits. “I’ll probably have some time on the walk to work tomorrow. Does 7 AM sound good to you?”

“Oh hell no,” Sakura replies. “I am _ not _ getting up at 7 AM, even to talk to my dork tutor.”

“Fair enough. In that case, I’ll try to call you sometime after school. At like… Five at the latest.”

“Works for me,” Sakura says. “See you then.”

“Yeah,” Nagisa says. “See you then.”

Nagisa waits for Sakura to hang up, then carefully pockets his phone. He stands and makes his way back into the kitchen.

Gakushuu gives him a look. “It wasn’t him, I take it?” he asks.

“Nah,” Nagisa says, patting his pocket. “Just Sakura. She wanted to catch up, but I told her now’s not really the time.”

Karma snorts. “More like you were afraid she’d roast you and needed a chance to put together your retorts if you ever wanted to survive the onslaught.”

“Karma, if I couldn’t survive a little bit of being made fun of, you’d have offed me a long time ago.”

Gakushuu rolls his eyes. “To Miss Sakura’s credit, while I have never met another person capable of being as obsessed with the concept of ‘roasting’ as Karma, he’s not very good at it.” 

“You do realize you’re inadvertently backing him up, right?” Kayano asks.

All Gakushuu gives her in response is a wry smile. But as quickly as some shred of amusement shows on his face, it fades. And he looks Nagisa’s way once more.

“I can’t believe he hasn’t called you yet,” he admits. “And to think the man has been so obsessed with getting in contact with you up until this point.”

Even Karma’s goofy smirk wanes. Nagisa has a feeling he’d even attempted to start the roast conversation in the first place to distract from the real elephant in the room.

“Forget about him,” he says. “The bastard isn’t worth your time. Maybe he’s finally just realized he doesn’t deserve to stand in the presence of someone as powerful as Nagisa.”

Gakushuu’s lip twitches. “It’s almost like he knows what’s coming.”

Nagisa sighs. To be truthful, Nagisa thinks he does. He could call Gakuho many, many derogatory things, but ‘stupid’ is not among those. He’s observant. Scarily so. There’s no way in hell he hasn’t noticed the way their conversations grow more and more stilted with each call. Nagisa has done his best to hide his distaste, but he’s only human. By now Gakuho has to know he hates him. And surely as a father, even a shitty one, he has to know the end is coming.

...Selfish asshole. He’s making this harder on Gakushuu than it needs to be.

And it’s not like Nagisa can just call him himself and say ‘Stop calling us. I’m never talking to you again.’ That’s just weird. That will make him seem like the instigator. And to be honest, he thinks Gakuho knows that, too.

“He’ll cave in eventually,” Nagisa says. “Just give it time. And in the meantime, enjoy your Gakuho-free life. Soon you won’t need to worry about him ever again.”

“Mmm,” is all Gakushuu says in response.

Nagisa’s eyes drift back down to his dinner. And he supposes there’s nothing much he can do for now. All he and Gakushuu can do both is wait. And while there’s almost nothing worse than that, what choice do they have? All they can do is attempt to support each other in the meantime while they wait to rip this band-aid off.

The band-aid that Gakuho doesn’t even dare to touch.

And still, each time Nagisa’s phone rings, his heart breaks. Because he watches Gakushuu’s heart jump out of his chest.

* * *

The more she sees the light of something better, the more Fumiko just wants to up and run away.

She knows it’s a silly idea, and so she doesn’t even humor it. But still, she can’t shake it. Not from the very back of her mind.

Kiyoshi was right. She doesn’t need them. Not really. Everything she couldn’t experience with her ‘family’ - everything they haven’t put in the effort of wanting to experience with her - she can experience with someone else. Her friends become living proof of that. Slowly but surely as she attempts to define ‘family’ in her mind, she reaffirms that it not only relies on the little things, but that those are something she has obtained with them. From playing rounds of vulgar card games curled up on the floor, to comforting each other during their lowest lows... Surely that’s what ‘caring about’ someone is.

And the more she comes to that realization, the more it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. If it’s so easy for people who she’d only met a few months ago to give her so much love, why has it been too much of an effort to receive the same care from the people she’s known all her life? 

...It makes her sad, of course. But now that she knows she at least has someone backing her, it makes her  _ angrier _ than anything. She’s sick of it. She’s sick of living this way. She loves the way she feels around her friends. She loves the things she gets to experience around Nagisa’s family. And having to return to her suffocating home each night after finally being able to breathe feels like having the bars of a cell door slammed on her face.

She knows it’s possible. To leave. Nagisa had done it, right? Gakushuu, too. Even Karma and Kayano she hasn’t heard much about the families of. Surely there has to be some sort of connecting factor there. 

And even so, she’s afraid of breaching the topic to them. Afraid of being called ungrateful. She knows it’s an impossible notion... They’ve been so endlessly supportive of her up to this point. But… It’s ridiculous to ask for their help with that. They’re already done so, so much for her. Asking for anything more would seem thankless at best. They’ve done all in their power to give her the family she’s needed. Now it seems it’s up to her to escape the one she hasn’t.

It’s a scary notion. Living on her own. Or at least… Away from them. Would Nagisa take her in-? No! Don’t ask that of him. And even if he would, it would be a world of a difference. She’s lived her entire life with riches - with maids. The idea of departing from all that is inane. But if she’s willing to let go the way they treat her, she must be ready to let go of that, too.

...She’s not ready. Not yet.

And in some ways, she loathes herself for that. She wants to be like them. She wants to make her decisions  _ now.  _ But she can’t. Not yet.

She leans into study, instead. Researches what it will take to be on her own. She is no empty-headed girl. As kind as the people around her can be, dreams don’t simply come true through sheer will. She must take some responsibility into her own hands. She researches custody laws in Japan. She begins to save money where she can. And one lazy afternoon she asks Nagisa to teach her how to wash her own dishes for the first time in her life.

..It’s not nearly as hard as she thought it would be.

She steels herself to ask them about their stories. Nagisa’s family. Not yet. But soon. She may need it in the coming years.

...The coming years!? When has she ever thought about her future like this before!?

She’s never had reason to. It had been set in stone. To grow up exactly as instructed. But they had shaken that foundation. And now she wishes to become anything but. She cannot - will not - grow up another branch on the family tree... As empty as her mother and as heartless as her father.

Grand plans or not, she doesn’t want to be just a Hisakawa. She never has. She just hadn’t had the push to realize it until now.

She wants to be like a Shiota. Like A Yukimura. Like a Karasuma or a Himura.

...She wants to be a Fumiko, whatever that entails.

It’s not all hard work, though. The harder she pushes herself, the more they stand by her side... The more she can lean into her friendships - Into the family she’s found. And with each morning Kiyoshi asks her if she’s okay… Each time Makoto makes her laugh… She treasures it more and more. It’s a feeling she wants to live in. 

By daylight, they harass poor Miss Nao. And by night, when her sister and father make passive-aggressive comments at each other over the dinner table, she can simply slip away. Excuse herself and ascend up to her room… Only to bury her face in her phone and find reassurance in their words.

[10/15/2030 8:45 PM:] [Makoro🐙]: Guys! Guys!

[10/15/2030 8:45 PM:] [Makoro🐙]: I managed to get a pigeon to SIT ON MY HAND TODAY. I almost caught him, too! 

[10/15/2030 8:46 PM:] [Makoro🐙]: So close to another pet…

[10/15/2030 8:47 PM:] [Kiyoshi]: Where would you even KEEP a pigeon?

[10/15/2030 8:47 PM:] [Makoro🐙]: Nagisa’s place! Duh.

[10/15/2030 8:47 PM:] [Kiyoshi]: I don’t think he’d let y

[10/15/2030 8:47 PM:] [Kiyoshi]: You know what? Nevermind. Something tells me you’re not going to budge.

[10/15/2030 8:49 PM:] [Makoro🐙]: Yeah. You’d be right about that one.

Fumiko snorts and rolls her eyes. Yeah. Even the dumb shit is reassuring. A far cry from the outside world. And when her actual house is so loveless, she finds a home in the way she laughs.

It feels like day and night. The person she pretends to be at home, and the person she’s becoming. She’s faker than ever at ‘home.’ She’d heard the way her parents had threatened to pull her out of Constellate if she hadn’t made progress. And so she does. She grits her teeth, straightens her back, and pretends to be their perfect little girl.

...She can’t risk losing this. Not now.

She kills it off, the enthusiasm she feels, the minute she walks in the door. And it’s suffocating. It’s lonely. It’s tough. But it’s always there waiting for her the next day when she tucks her scarf around her neck in homeroom.

She screams with laughter when Makoto ends up stabbing her in P.E., and somehow even the act seems worth it.

Because one day she knows it will be worth it. With time… With effort… And with companionship, she can find it: True freedom. Until that day she’ll always have the three of them. And the thought of that future is enough to help her move forward with grace.

* * *

Usually, it’s Nagisa who wakes the others up. Not the other way around.

It’s four-something in the morning, and he’s half asleep when he hears a shuffling sound. The bed creaks as someone steps out, and footsteps descend down the stairs.

At first, he assumes it’s just one of his spouses taking a trip to the bathroom, and his eyes flutter shut. But remembering that not only is their bathroom upstairs, but also that Gakushuu’s been going through quite a bit of emotional turmoil lately, he sits up and groggily looks around.

It takes him a moment to get his bearings, but by the dim light of their nightlight and a soft familiar snoring, he quickly realizes Gakushuu is sound asleep. Karma’s tangled up next to him, an arm slung over his chest. Which only seems to leave one person missing.

_...Kayano? _

Nagisa groggily rubs at his eyes, craning his head in her direction. And surely enough, her spot is unoccupied, an indent left in the bed where she’d been only moments before. Figuring she could simply be running downstairs to grab a drink, however, Nagisa rolls over and waits.

He trains his eyes on the digital clock that sits on his bedside table. Watching the numbers blink to their rhythm, he fends off a familiar sleepiness.

A minute passes. And then five. By the time the clock reaches ten, he’s already out of bed. He slides into his octopus slippers and makes his way down the stairs, flicking on the lights as he reaches the bottom.

Kayano looks up at him with surprise. She’s taken seat at the dinner table, a steaming mug of hot cocoa sitting in front of her.

“Nagisa?” she asks.

“Ah. Sorry-” he says, making his way towards her. “I just got worried. You know how it is.”

Kayano frowns. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Nagisa shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. And it’s only half a lie. “I’d been having trouble sleeping anyways, and when I noticed you’d been gone so long, I figured I better check up on you.”

Now that cracks a tiny smile from Kayano. “Thanks, I guess.”

Her voice is quiet. Nagisa can’t help but note a weird sense of melancholy in the room.

“Mind if I pour a cup?” he asks. “I figure I’m already not gonna get back to sleep tonight. May as well treat myself.” A beat. “And, y’know, get a head start on the sugar rush I’m gonna need to make it through the day.”

Kayano snorts. “Go right ahead. There should still be some left,” she says. “I could use some company, anyways.”

Nagisa quickly pours himself a mug. And sliding in next to Kayano, he asks “What are you doing up this late? You’re not usually the night owl type.”

Kayano gives a defeated shrug, staring down into her cup. “Just… Thinking,” she says.

The slightest turn of her lip. Her eyes flicker his way, then back to her mug.

It’s funny. Nagisa knows that look. The one he’s had on his own face a million times before. That ‘thinking’ look. That overthinking look. That worrying look.

...Not such a good actor after all, is she?

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks.

It feels like only a few months ago he’d been on the other side of this table. And that’s because he had. Even then, despite his condemnations of ‘You’ll think it’s crazy,’ Kayano had pressed through his stubborn exterior. He may not know exactly what’s on her mind, but he’s happy to return the favor.

“Yeah. I guess,” Kayano says. “If I can even find a way to word it.”

“Take your time,” Nagisa says, taking a sip of his cocoa. It’s still searing hot.

“A little bleak, too.”

“When have our lives been anything but?”

Kayano gives a bittersweet smile as she stares into her mug. “...Yeah. That’s it,” she says, lifting it to take her own sip. “I think it’s just… Things have been so perfect lately.”

Nagisa raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t object. “Yeah. Things have been nice,” he simply agrees.

“Makoto… Fumiko… Even Kiyoshi,” Kayano says. “All of it has been so nice. I’ll just sit there… And I’ll listen to them run throughout the house, laughing at the top of their lungs. It makes me so happy.” She pauses. “And I mean… You’ve had students stay here before. And they were wonderful. Miyako… Konishi… They were wonderful kids. But this is different.”

Yeah. Nagisa gets it. Life had been good before. But never perfect. Not quite. 

“Yeah. I don’t think anyone else could have filled the hole that Sensei left.”

Sometimes, he sits awake at night, too. And he wonders if that’s a hole that even Makoto can’t fill.

“It’s crazy,” Kayano says. “I still can’t believe that he’s back. Sometimes I forget- For just a moment- And then it all comes rushing back to me. Hits me again. And I feel so, so relieved.”

“I don’t think it’s a relief that will ever fade,” Nagisa admits. Not after fifteen years of grief. Never.

“...I still blame myself for it sometimes, you know,” Kayano admits. “Wondering… ‘If I hadn’t spent all my time wrapped up in vengeance, could I have saved him?’ Or… At the very least, could I have made things easier on everyone else?”

Nagisa sighs and reaches for her hand. “I get it,” he says. “I still blame myself too. Every day.”

Sitting there. Worrying... Wondering... Knowing that there’s no avoiding it. Knowing that one day, Makoto will surely remember he’s a murderer.

...Knowing that he’d killed the only adult who had ever been proud of him.

He knows that guilt isn’t what Korosensei would have wanted. Isn’t what Makoto would want. And yet, with each passing day… It seems to grow heavier. It’s depressing… That word that Korosensei had stood for: “Assassination,” loses it’s fun allure more with every passing year.

...Murder. That’s all it is. The government, his teachers… They’d tried to put a fun, childlike spin on it… Make it appealing to a bunch of Chuunibyou children who’d been saddled with that responsibility. But Nagisa knows better now. It’s murder.

Sometimes, he still doesn’t know why he romanticizes it. Turns it into a game for his kids. He knows they’re not in any real danger. It’s not like they’d ever have to hurt him. But it makes his heart still. And even so - Even despite that - It’s too complicated. He can’t hate it. He can’t resent it. And he could never resent what he’d been through. It’s a feeling he just can’t shake. The strength that very word gives him… ‘Kill.’ … It brings him back to the strongest point in his life.

To be truthful, he doesn’t know whether he runs P.E the way he does more for his kids or for himself. But, either way, it’s pretty sad he peaked in middle school.

Finally, he shakes his head. Shakes himself out of his thoughts.

“...But there’s no use in blaming ourselves now,” he says. “It’s not like we can change it. And besides… He’s here now, isn’t he? And he’s happy. The last thing we need to be worrying about is…” He pauses.

All the ways they screwed him over?

“Things beyond our control,” he decides on instead.

Kayano gives a tiny nod. “I suppose,” she says, stirring her hot cocoa. “...It just… Feels a little perfect, doesn’t it?”

Nagisa raises an eyebrow.

“Forgive me if this sounds pessimistic,” Kayano says, her voice quiet. “But… I don’t think life’s felt this certain for me in a long time. I don’t think I’ve ever had it so clearly laid out for me that the future would be ‘good,’ since… Well… Since that month in middle school. When we really thought we’d save Korosensei. I still think about it all the time.”

Yeah. Nagisa does, too. It’s funny. Even the things Kayano blames herself for… The things that had made it ever-harder to lose Korosensei… They’d allowed the class that one beautiful month.

“But… We didn’t,” Kayano says. “We couldn’t. We couldn’t save him. We never even had a chance. It was ripped away from us.” Her voice quivers. “What if… What if this is, too?”

Nagisa reaches a hand out to place it on her shoulder. “Kayano…-”

“Sometimes it feels like half my life is just the things I want being dangled in front of me, then ripped away. Happiness… Right… There,” Kayano murmurs. “Which I know is ridiculous to even humor!” she frustratedly admits, shoulders lowering. “It’s… It’s senseless to feel that way at best, and ungrateful to feel that way at worst. I’m surrounded by people who love me more than anything. People I love back. I have a job I’m passionate about! And my teacher’s back from the dead, for Christ’s sake! Is that not enough for me? Why can’t I just be happy?” She sounds close to tears.

...Nagisa thinks he has the answer, but he doesn’t dare voice it.

Instead, he simply squeezes her shoulder, and reaches his other hand out to take hers. Giving her a consoling look, he sighs and says “...I wish it was that easy to be happy.”

“Your job scares me sometimes,” Kayano admits. “I’m always so, so scared for those kids. Scared that one day something bad is going to happen. They just… Come from such terrible situations. Worse than ours were, sometimes. They need you. And… I’m so glad you help them. But it eats at me: What if, god forbid, something terrible happens to one of them one day? To Kiyoshi? To Fumiko? To  _ Makoto? _ I don’t think I could take it.”

To be truthful, Nagisa doesn’t think he could, either. He thinks about it. A lot. Living his life with the always-present terror of uncertainty looming behind him. That one day… he won’t be able to help. That they’ll slip through his fingers. That despite all his efforts, their parents will snap, or their futures will go unsalvaged, or - he can’t even bring himself to think about it - one of those kids hurts themselves.

...But there’s nothing he can do to stave off the worry. It’s simply an inevitable weight of his job. There’s nothing he can do to rid himself of the sick, twisted fear in his gut. All he can do is vow to work his hardest, and pray that that's somehow enough to prevent the worst outcomes possible.

“I… Couldn’t, either,” is all he can find it in himself to say. His voice feels hoarse. He can’t - won’t - think about it.

_ I can’t lose him. Not again. _

He doesn’t think he could take losing even one other goddamn person at this point.

“And Gakushuu,” Kayano says. “God… Gakushuu. You have no idea how much it’s killing me to see him so stressed. I know it seems like we don’t get along sometimes, but shit, man… That’s my husband’s husband. That’s my _ family.  _ I don’t want his father causing even more trouble for us than he already has. Gakushuu’s been through enough.  _ We’ve  _ been through enough. I don’t want to see him lash out.”

“...Me neither,” Nagisa admits, sighing out through his nose. “I’ve been losing sleep over the whole ordeal.” Finally, he lets go of Kayano’s shoulder, taking another hesitant sip of cocoa. “I just keep trying to tell myself that it’ll all be over soon. I.. Want to think that once we take this final step, he’ll never bother us again.”

“...How can you be so certain he won’t?”

Looking at Kayano again, she just seems… Exhausted. Thoroughly, utterly exhausted.

“I can’t be,” he admits, feeling that same exhaustion in his bones.

How could he? Not after three years of calls from exhausted burner phones, and the time his mother showed up on his apartment’s doorstep in a manic state… Begging to ‘just have her child back.’

Sometimes he thinks the only reason he’d managed to get his mom to leave him alone is that by now she’s inevitably moved on to some other obsession.

Kayano gives a weary laugh. It’s a bitter, sardonic thing. “I’m so scared it’s all going to start falling apart. It feels like it does every single time I start to be in a place where I’m really happy about myself. I’m worried. For Makoto… For Fumiko… For Kiyoshi… For Gakushuu… For you! And… About other stuff, too.”

“...Wanna talk about it?”

“It’s selfish.”

“No. It’s not.”

He already knows her mind is on her sister. Knows her too well to guess anything else. But the moment grief becomes something considered selfish is the day this is a world he no longer wants to live in.

Kayano hesitates.

“...We can talk about anything. Remember? So please… Open up to me.”

Kayano runs her hands through her hair. And twirling that green streak of hers around her finger, she finally admits: “I’m scared for myself.”

Before Nagisa can even speak, she takes a sharp breath inward. “Most of all - I’m worried that absolutely nothing is going to go wrong. That… Things really will be perfect. That Gakushuu will solve his issues with ease, nothing will happen to Makoto, and we can keep living this way. That I can have the life I’ve always wanted, and that I still won’t be happy.”

“I’m so… So scared I won’t just let myself have this. Because even all these years later, all I want is my big sister back. Now more than ever.” There’s a quiver to her voice. “...And you know what’s the worst part? Sometimes… At night when I’m lying awake… Or during the day when I hear him laugh… Some horrible part of me can’t help but wonder ‘Why him?’”

She stares down at the table, hands shaking, and tears swelling in her eyes. “‘Why Sensei? Why… Not… Her? What did he do to deserve this? He still got her killed after all’” She takes another sharp breath, choking back a bitter sob. “After everything he did for me. How could I? He’s just a little boy… How can I think that about him? How selfish can I be? A… Am I some sort of monster, Nagisa? I thought I was over being that kind of person…”

Nagisa falls silent. Watching Kayano weep in the dim light, he scoots his chair closer and reaches in to hug. Shuddering with sobs, Kayano leans into his embrace and buries her face in his shoulder.

What can… What can he even say?

Taking a deep breath in… Then out, he tries his best to compose his words. “...You’re not that sort of person, Kayano,” he says, pulling her closer. “...And… You’re certainly not a monster. You never expected to have to deal with this. Just when you were getting better, you were forced to confront all of these possibilities. I get it. It’s not fair. Even if Makoto is a miracle, it’s  _ really _ not fair.”

Kayano shakes her head, choking back another sob.

“I don’t blame you for being bitter. I don’t blame you for thinking ‘what if?’ You’re just… Missing someone you really loved. And I know Makoto wouldn’t hold that against you-”

“Bullshit! He’d be heartbroken!”

_ “And he doesn’t need to know.  _ This is you hurting. What happens inside of your heart is none of his concern. The… The things you think of when you’re alone don’t define who you are. If… If they did, I would have become a serial murderer a long time ago, you know.”

“Mmm…” Kayano says, but can’t find it in herself to say much more. Instead, she simply settles on a “...I just miss her. You’re right. I thought I was finally over it. I was finally where she’d have wanted me to be. But every day I see him having the time of his life with us all I can think about is her. Why? All I want is for her to have that, too. Is that too much to ask?”

“No. It’s not,” Nagisa firmly says. “Not… at all.” He gives a deep sigh. “But… Who’s to say she’s not? I know it’s little reassurance, but… Maybe she’s out there. And maybe she’s finally living the life she deserved… Happy… And safe… And carefree. And the only thing she’s missing is her little sister, who she’s just waiting to find her...”

He’s not sure he believes it himself, but fuck, man… What else can he say? ‘Your sister’s gone forever?’ ‘In some warped version of heaven, Korosensei abandoned one of the only people he’d ever loved?’ No. He refuses to. He refuses to even consider it. 

Kayano lets out another bitter sob. “You think I haven’t considered it?” she asks. “Thought about it every night? Reached out my hand and hoped? But... What if I never see her again? What if every day he reminds me of her? And what if… She’s really gone?” She clutches at Nagisa’s back. “...I won’t let myself believe. I can’t take it. I can’t afford to have that ripped away from me, too…”

Nagisa thinks he feels his heart shatter. And finally, truly at a loss for words, all he can do is softly rock Kayano back and forth.

“...I’m sorry.”

“...It hurts so much-”

“I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m sorry for dumping this on you-”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I know this is coming out of nowhere-”

“...You just bottled it up.”

‘It’s okay.’ He wants to say. ‘It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.’ But it’s not okay. Her sister - Her fucking surrogate mother - is  _ dead. _ She has been for sixteen years now. Kayano has had her out of her life longer now than she’d ever gotten the chance to have her in. That’s awful. And  _ nothing…  _ No amount of ‘its okays’ he can say could ever fix that.

“I’m here for you,” he settles on, instead. “I love you… And I’m here for you.”

...Sometimes, when everything hurts, that’s all you can say.

And holding Kayano tight… Running his fingers through her hair and letting her sob into his shoulder… He hopes she knows he means that. More than anything.

In due time, her sobbing eases. As these things always do. And although he knows he’d done little to cease it, he continues to hold her tight.

“...I… Know it can’t fix anything. But you’ll always have me. And you’ll always have us. Things will never be perfect. God, I wish they could. But… We’ll always have each other. I’m sure… Horrible, horrible things await us in our future. Because you’re right. Things can’t just continue this way. That’s not how life works. But we’ll have each other through it. This time… we won’t make the same mistakes. And I know no-one - Nothing - can ever replace your sister… But…” He leans back and wipes a tear from Kayano’s eye. “...I hope it’s enough to help you even a little.”

Kayano lets out another laugh… Heartbroken, but less bitter than before. “...You have no idea how much you’ve already helped me, Nagisa…” she says, her voice quiet. “Throughout… My entire life.”

“Then let me help you once more.”

Kayano cracks the tiniest, saddest smile. And rubbing at her eyes she says “...Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Slowly but surely, her breathing returns to normal. And sitting in silence, she pulls herself away from Nagisa.

“...I’m sorry about how sudden this was,” she says, shakily reaching out for her cocoa.

“It’s fine,” Nagisa says, helping her steady her hands. “I get it. I really do.”

She carefully brings the mug to her lips. “...I love you too. And… I am happy. With everyone. With you. I’m sorry if I made it sound like I wasn’t.”

“No. I get it,” Nagisa repeats. “Happiness is… Just one of those complex things.”

One minute you can be on cloud nine, joking with your spouses of six years about just how much you love them. And then the next you can be a puddle of misery on the floor, drowning in your own grief.

The good news is… Those sorts of happiness and sadness don’t always exclude each other. Maybe even if you’re not happy about some aspect of your life… Another part of it can do something, no matter how small, to fill the gap.

“Mmm,” Kayano says, taking another sip of her cocoa. “...Would you mind grabbing me some marshmallows for this? Usually I wouldn’t overindulge, but-”

Nagisa’s already on his feet. “Can do,” he says, hurrying to grab the marshmallows. And pouring not one, not two - But three into Kayano’s hot chocolate, he simply smiles and says. “I think you deserve to treat yourself tonight.”

Kayano gives him another halfhearted smile. And as he sits back down next to her, she leans carefully on his shoulder.

“Love you,” she says.

“Love you too,” he responds, watching her shoulders rise up and down.

She takes another sip of her cocoa. “Much better,” she says, savoring the taste. “It’s funny… I never used to like this stuff, y’know. Sweet things. Which is… Like, crazy to imagine now. But I was always more of a sour girl.” She pauses, staring down into her mug. “...It was only after my tentacles that I came to really appreciate these things.”

 “That’s life, I guess,” Nagisa replies. “Always changing.”

Yeah. It is funny. There’s a lot of things he hadn’t learned to appreciate until after finding out about her tentacles, either.

She’s still got the scars... On the back of her neck, barely noticeable. The burns around her back and shoulders.

Weird to think that their teacher is not only living on through Makoto, but that his literal DNA is living on through her and Itona. Giving her a sweet tooth, and making her insecure about her bust size.

_ Good grief. _

They sit in silence for one moment more, nursing their cocoa. But finally, Kayano suggests they return to bed.

“...I know it’s a little too late now, but I think the best thing we can do is try to get some sleep.”

Nagisa nods. “Yeah. I think so too.”

Kayano reaches to start putting the hot chocolate stuff away, but Nagisa stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says. And cracking a grin... “How about we just make Karma deal with it in the morning?”

Kayano grins back. “...Yeah. Sounds good.”

With that, he ushers her back up to bed. And as they crawl in, he wraps his arms around her. Listens to her breathe. Pulls her close and simply prays that his embrace is enough to drown out her pain for now.

...Because to be truthful, sometimes he thinks they’re both still stuck during that month in middle school.

* * *

_ ‘Today’s the day’  _ Makoto tells himself.

He’d quickly come to the realization that there’s no perfect time to talk with his dad. With his work and all, his schedule is… Tumultuous at best. More often than not he leaves for work when Makoto is at school, and only returns late in the night. Which doesn’t exactly bode well for Makoto, who’s been trying to keep a pretty regular sleep schedule for school.

Not that that’s a real issue. He gets it, obviously. Of course he gets it! His dad works. A lot. And he loves him for it...

...Even if he returns exhausted and angry every night.

_ ‘Which isn’t an issue, either,’  _ he reminds himself, _ ‘just another thing to talk about.’  _ And that’s why he will. Tonight.

_ ‘If there is no perfect day, then I’ll make today the perfect day’  _ He decides that Friday afternoon. He’s spent all week trying to plan what he wants to say to his dad and when he’s gonna say it. But ultimately, it’s felt pretty useless. He knows how these sorts of things go. Seen them a dozen times before. You can’t plan out a heartfelt conversation… It needs to come from deep inside of you!

And he knows there’s a will burning deep inside of him… To make things right with his father and let him in on the wonderful life he’s begun to lead. He can’t spend his entire life running from or avoiding him. That’s just not right. And although things have never been great with his father before, it’s not like Makoto has ever tried, either. That changes tonight. 

Sitting on the couch and waiting, he kicks his feet. It’s almost twelve-at-night now. His dad should be home any moment. To be truthful, he’s a little anxious, but as he always does, he quickly shakes his head and subdues that feeling.  _ ‘No use in overthinking it’ _ he reminds himself.  _ ‘It’ll be fine. You’re Korosensei, right? You’ve helped a BUNCH of kids talk to their parents.’ _

_ ‘...Now it’s your turn.’ _

Oh man. He likes the sound of that.

He can’t wait to tell dad about everything. Well... Not everything. Not… Like the Korosensei stuff. Not yet. They gotta take baby steps, right? But he wants to tell him all about his friends! And all the fun things they do! The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes just how little he’s told his dad about his life lately. And he’s resolved to change that.

...Surely it must be lonely to have your own son shut himself away like that.

_ (The silver-haired boy, indecipherable expression, sears into mind once more. But Makoto quickly shakes his head. Now’s not the time.) _

With a shudder, the door begins to unlatch. And Makoto’s instantly shaken out of his introspective thoughts. He bolts to his feet and watches the door with a wary expression.

His dad enters the house, posture downtrodden as he slumps over to the couch. And tossing himself down with a thud, he doesn’t even seem to notice Makoto.

“You’re home!” Makoto says with a smile and a wave.

“Mmm,” Dad says, eyes already shut.

...He reeks of alcohol and sadness.

Makoto doesn’t dare take a seat on the couch next to him. Instead, he simply steps closer, trying to quell the unease in his gut.

“I was actually wondering… Can we talk?”

Dad’s eyes slowly drift open. And he stares at Makoto in surprise, as if processing that he’s actually there for the first time. Groggily, he groans and asks “Ain’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“Uh! Yeah! Usually!” Makoto says, antsily bouncing from toe to toe. “But I stayed up because I had some things I needed to discuss with you! I hope that’s okay.”

Dad lets out another groan. “Gah...Can’t we deal with this in the morning?”

“Not really,” Makoto admits, knitting at his hands. “You don’t get up till pretty late, and I made some plans with friends-”

“Damn right I get up pretty late,” Dad grumbles, stifling a yawn. “I work my ass off all day. And I  _ really _ don’t have time to deal with this. Listen: Just cancel your little thing with your little friends and we can talk about whatever it is this time tomorrow.”

Makoto frowns. 

‘Whatever it is this time?’ 

What… What does that mean? This feels like the first time in his life he’s stepped forward to tell his dad how he feels. He’s never bothered him before-

_...Right? _

He feels that prick of anxiety run down his spine. But like a part he’s rehearsed a hundred times, his grin stays unfaltering.

“It’ll only take a few minutes-”

“I  _ really _ don’t have the time.” There’s a dangerous edge to Dad’s voice. 

It’s funny. He’d never been scared of Dad before any of this Korosensei stuff. They’d mostly just… Kept to themselves. Dad did his thing, and Makoto did his. It was each man for their own. But it’s not like he’d ever worried about Dad hurting him.

...Not until he remembered Nagisa’s mom.

The way she’d reached out to grab him, and clutched him tight by his hair. Shaking him back and forth violently as she could, and shrieking in a voice filled with rage.

That same rage seems to bubble up under Dad’s tone now.

But Korosensei had kept his smile then. And Makoto will keep his now.

Nagisa had… Found peace with his mom after all, right? That’s… What had inspired Makoto to try this. All he has to do is keep that same cool, kind demeanor. Everything will just be fine.

“Just drop it,” Dad growls.

…

“...No.”

_ “No?” _

“No. This is important to me,” Makoto says, fist clenched tight. “I want to get through to you, so please! Let m-”

**_“FOR CHRIST’S SAKE! WHAT IS IT MAKOTO!?”_ **

Makoto reels back. Eyes wide and hand stiff, he feels himself freeze up.

Dad’s eyes are completely aflame.

“...Y… You mean… We can talk about it?” Makoto asks, voice quiet.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get it over with.” Dad growls, his hands shaking with impatience as he sits up. 

“Well…” Makoto says, straightening himself up. He takes a deep breath and returns to a more neutral expression. Then, fiddling with his hands by his side, he calmly speaks up. “I just wanted to talk about… This,” he says, motioning to his father’s irritable posture. “I don’t want our conversations to be like this anymore. It feels like every conversation we have ends up this bad, and I don’t want to keep living that w-”

“‘This bad?’” Dad interrupts, scoffing. “And now are you gonna let me in on what exactly the hell _ that’s  _ supposed to mean?”

“I- I dunno!” Makoto sputters. “Scary and angry!”

“Scary and angry?” Dad grumbles. “You think I’m scary!?”

“I- I didn’t say you were scary!”

_ “Then what the hell is!?” _

“When you act this way!” Makoto shouts, voice close to cracking.

Dad stares. And then, stumbling to his feet, he asks “When I act this way?”

“Yes!”

“Act like what!?” Dad demands, taking another step forward. “Stressed!? Angry!? And after  _ everything  _ I do for you. I toss my fuckin’ life away for you, and you’re gonna blame me for being  _ snappy?” _

Makoto backs up, careful to avoid letting his dad get too close. “I’m not blaming you for anything!”

“Well it certainly _ sounds  _ like you’re unhappy with your father,” Dad says, close enough that Makoto can smell the wretched scent of his breath.

“No!” He shouts. “I’m not unhappy with you! Just let me talk! Please!”

Dad pauses, as if mulling it over, then snorts. And with a dismissive eye roll, he tosses himself back on the couch. “Whatever you say, boss. What do you want to bitch about this time? How are you gonna frame it as a ‘concern’?”

Makoto gulps. But reminding himself that this is simply a roadblock he needs to cross… The darkest before the dawn… He composes his words.

“I… It’s not that I dislike you, Dad! It’s the opposite,” he says, firmly. “I realized I never get to spend time with you. I want us to have happy interactions. So… So we can be a real family! So I can be closer to you…” He forces himself to take a step forward. “...I want to put in effort too! I want to fix things! So please… Let me thank you. Let me be a part of your life! I want to tell you about everything.”

Dad’s quiet. And then, slapping his forehead, he bursts into laughter. “You think I’ve got time for that!?” He asks, voice quivering with disbelief. “‘A real family’” He repeats, voice mocking. “I’m not sure you got the memo, kid, but this  _ is  _ a real family. And this is the best you’re gonna get. I’m sorry I don’t have the time to sit down and listen to whatever useless horseshit you did today, but I’m afraid to inform you that I’m out here working two shifts a day to support your lazy ass.”

...L… Lazy?

“But… But I never thought-”

“Yeah. You don’t think. You’re  _ stupid. _ You’re  _ useless.  _ Always have been. Any other parent would be lucky enough to end up with a kid who at least knows how to pull his own weight, but not me!” Dad rambles. “I never asked for this.  _ Never  _ asked to have to throw my life away because your waste of a mother decided you weren’t her responsibility and dumped you on me. But I’ve tried my damn best. Am I not allowed to be a little mad!?”

“I never said that!” Makoto quickly replies. “I… I mean… I’d be mad, too…” He admits, feeling his heart sink. “But… Can’t I… Can’t I at least repay you?” He gulps. “Even a little bit?”

“Repay me,” Dad says. “He wants to REPAY ME.” Just barely stifling another laugh, he stares Makoto down with piercing eyes. “Kid, you’ve already screwed my life up beyond repair. There’s no ‘repaying’ you could possibly do now.”

“...’m sorry,” Makoto whispers.

_ “What was that? Speak up?”  _ Dad demands.

“I’m sorry!” Makoto shouts. “I… I never asked to be born! I didn’t realize I was stressing you out so much--”

“Yeah. I never asked for you to be born, either,” Dad replies. “I never even wanted kids. You know what? But here I am stuck with you. And you come to me at twelve in the night having the AUDACITY to tell me how to spend MY little freetime!? While you do what!? Prance around with your little friends instead of actually supporting us?”

...D… Does Dad think he hasn’t tried!? I… It’s not like he’s old enough to get a job. But he’s pulled his own weight… Swiped from store shelves in a desperate attempt to not blow more of Dad’s money.

_ (To stave off the hunger of there being no food at home in the first place.) _

“Like you don’t already make me miserable enough, Makoto. I spend  _ all day _ doing monotonous work and thinking about how happy I could have been if it weren’t for you. And you want me to come home, again, at twelve-at-night just to listen to you prattle your head off about whatever childish shit you’re caught up on today?”

“I just thought… I just thought you’d like that…”

“Well you were wrong! So drop it. Get the fuck to sleep, and shut the hell up before I need to think about this one moment more. It’s  _ depressing,  _ Makoto. All I want to do is sleep. Is that too goddamn much to ask?”

“N… No…” Makoto mumbles. “I just… Wanted to fix things. I… I don’t wanna make you miserable. I can do anything. I swear… Please… Just tell me how to be good. Just tell me how I can make you happy…”

Dad rolls his eyes, and leans back on the couch. “Go to sleep, Makoto.”

“Please. Tell me what I can do for you-” Makoto begs.

“Shut up. That’s all you can do for me,” Dad says, voice shuddering with exhaustion.

Makoto blinks back tears. “...There has to be something. Anything. I’ll do it. Just tell me-”

“Go to bed-”

“I’m begging you…-”

And in an instant, dad shoots up. He grabs Makoto’s wrist and yanks him close. Breath hot on his cheek, he growls. “It’s no fucking use. Kid, you’ve already broken things beyond repair.  _ Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep before I  _ **_really_ ** _ get angry.” _

Makoto searches for words, but finds nothing, even as Dad slowly lets go of him and returns to his seat.

Dad doesn’t say another word. But finger pointing towards Makoto’s futon, his instruction is obvious.

_ ‘Shut up about it, and never bother me again.’ _

Makoto’s mouth opens, then closes. And as he steps forwards the futon, he sends one last hesitant glance over his shoulder… Searches for what to say… What to do… One last heartfelt display to get through to his father.

...What Nagisa would have said. What Itona could have done. What the silver-haired boy haunting his every waking moment should have tried…

Nothing. Makoto finds nothing. There’s not a single thing they could have said or done. 

Shoulders lowering, he crawls into his futon. No longer able to hold back his tears, he desperately wipes at his eyes. Hiccuping and whimpering, he curls up in a ball. And against every part of him telling him not to, he looks at his dad once more… Wondering if he’ll even react to his tears.

Deep down, he already knows what he’s going to see. 

...Dad’s fast asleep.

Makoto doesn’t dare stand to grab tissues. The last thing he needs to do right now is wake him. Makoto’s put him through enough as is.

Shutting his eyes tight and desperately trying to sleep, the silver-haired boy is clearer in his mind than ever. He’s older now… A wiry teen, with bags under his eyes, and a sickly-looking tint to his skin.

Hands in his pockets, he stares at Makoto with a bitter, pitying expression. And then, cracking a smirk, his face seems to say.

_ “Nothing you said or did was ever gonna make him proud of you.” _

And try as he might, Makoto just can’t shake the silver-haired boy and his know-it-all gaze from his mind. He turns over once, then twice, in a desperate attempt to cry himself to sleep. But with thoughts of disappointed dads, terror by torchlight, and the faintest smell of dying petunias haunting his every thought, it’s no use.

There’s no escaping it. All he can do is stare into the boy’s eyes and wonder.

...What sort of horrible, desperate or naive person was Korosensei to have to have wanted to believe that even people like Hiromi Shiota or Masuto Himura deserved or even  _ wanted  _ a second chance?

* * *

Nagisa gets the call at 11 AM on a Saturday afternoon.

He’s busy grading papers when it happens. He’s about halfway through Rin’s essay on the ethical implications of immorality (Long story) when his phone begins to buzz. And in an instant, the Sonic Ninja theme song blares throughout his living room. He scrambles to grab his phone, bringing it up to his ear and preparing to say hi to Sakura or whoever else it is this time.

“Hello,” the voice on the other end of the line says, and Nagisa feels his blood run cold.

Here’s the thing. He’s spent the last two months waiting for Gakuho to be on the other end of that phone. But now that he’s actually here, it doesn’t feel real. Could this really be it? The final confrontation coming to him on now of all days, as he grades papers on a lazy Saturday afternoon?

...His mouth feels dry.

“Hey, Gakuho.”

“I hope this isn’t a bad time to call,” Gakuho says. “I’ve been meaning to get in contact with you again for the past few weeks. Things have just been busy with school. You know how it is.”

“...Yeah,” Nagisa says. “Yeah. I know.”

And shaking his head, he stands. He carefully pockets Rin’s essay in his binder, and pushes it to the side. 

“Now’s… Not a bad time at all, actually,” he admits. “There’s - Uh… Something I’ve been meaning to talk with you about. But can you give me a second? I have someone on the other line. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. This should only take a few minutes.”

“Of course,” Gakuho says. “See you then.”

Nagisa scrambles to hang up his phone. But with his shaky hands, Gakuho beats him to it. And staring down at his cell phone, he’s half tempted to just block Gakuho then and there.

He quickly banishes the thought. As satisfying as it is to think about leaving Gakuho with as few answers as Gakuho had left Gakushuu, Nagisa’s just not that sort of person. Plus, he’d promised to deal with this by Gakushuu’s side. There’s no easy way out now.

He takes a deep breath and makes his way in towards the lounge.

Last he’d checked, Gakushuu was busy compiling some work spreadsheets on one of their high-end computers. And although he’d seemed pretty busy, something tells Nagisa he’ll be willing to put it aside for a moment for this.

Sure enough, Gakushuu’s in the lounge. And staring intently at the computer, he hardly even notices Nagisa walk in. He doesn’t turn his way until Nagisa taps on his shoulder with a quiet “Hey.”

Gakushuu turns his head. And a slightly impatient look on his face, he asks “What is it?”

...His gaze falls the moment his eyes land on the phone.

“...Oh,” he says, quietly.

Nagisa nods.

“...He called?”

Nagisa nods again. 

Gakushuu falls silent.

“...Don’t worry. I haven’t told him yet,” Nagisa says. “I know you wanted to be there. I said I’d call him back.”

“Oh,” Gakushuu says again.

“I mean- If you want to,” Nagisa reassures.

Gakushuu’s gaze hardens. “I want to,” he says, more to himself than anything.

“Of course,” Nagisa replies. And he places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go somewhere where we can sit down. Something tells me this is going to be a heavy conversation.”

“...Yeah. Me too,” Gakushuu simply agrees.

Gakushuu stands from the desk chair and they head up towards the bedroom. Thankfully they shouldn’t be bothering Kayano or Karma considering those two ran out to grab groceries while Nagisa and Gakushuu did their ‘big boy work.’

...Ha. If only they could have known what those two would  _ actually _ be dealing with.

Nagisa sits down on the foot of the bed, motioning for Gakushuu to take a seat next to him. Gakushuu obliges, leaning in close and staring at Nagisa’s phone.

His gaze somehow seems hawkish.

“...Are you ready?” Nagisa asks.

“I don’t know,” Gakushuu admits. “Which… Is inane. Because I’m supposed to be the one with all the answers. But… I don’t know.”

“We can wait, if you want-”

“No,” Gakushuu says firmly. “I’ve made you wait long enough. So… Let’s just get this over with.”

Nagisa stares at the phone. And then, after one long moment of hesitation, presses the call button, puts it on speaker, and brings it to his ear.

Gakuho picks up in an instant. It almost feels like he’s been waiting by the phone this entire time.

“Hi,” Nagisa says.

“Hello,” Gakuho replies.

“I’m sorry about that,” Nagisa says. He’s not, but he feels obligated to say it anyway. “I just had something to deal with.”

_ ‘I had to grab your son. The son you traumatized? Remember? That one?’ _

“It’s just fine,” Gakuho reassures. “Now what was it you wanted to talk with me about?” 

_ Your son. It’s about your son, goddamn it! _

“It’s… Well…-” Nagisa’s voice is quiet.

Gakuho must not hear him, because he speaks right up over him. “If it’s about midterms, I’m happy to inform you that my students passed with flying colors. And as for y-?”

“It’s not about midterms,” Nagisa interrupts. 

Gakuho must finally pick up on the hostility in his voice, because there’s a long moment of silence before he responds.

“Well…” He says slowly. “What is it, then? No use in beating around the bush. If you have a topic you wish to breach with me, now would be the time.”

It’s strange, but Nagisa thinks he hears a quiver in Gakuho’s voice, too. Just barely… Ever so slight. Like he knows what’s coming, and has for a very long time now.

...What was that about beating around the bush?

He glances up towards Gakushuu, as if asking for permission. Lips drawn back into a frown, there’s a look on his face that’s heartbroken and indignant all at once. And still, he doesn’t hesitate. He meets Nagisa’s eyes and gives a firm nod.

“It’s… About this,” Nagisa admits.

“Pardon?” 

“We can’t keep doing this, Gakuho.”

Gakuho’s silent for a long moment. Before speaking up with a quiet “Forgive me, but I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Calling me,” Nagisa says. “Making small talk with me like this. It’s weird. I know you don’t respect me that much as an educator, Gakuho. I know you don’t do this to other people in our circles. I know what this is really about.”

He can practically imagine the way Gakuho pinches the bridge of his nose on the other end of the line.

“I’ll have you know I respect your methods as an educator deepl-”

“No. You don’t.”

The silence is suffocating.

“...Enlighten me, then,” Gakuho says, his tone strained. “What exactly is this about?”

“Gakushuu.”

The moment the word escapes his lips, he can feel an electric tension take hold of the conversation. A gasp, however slight, on the other end of the phone... Gakushuu’s tight-clenched fist… And Gakuho’s struggle for words.

“...I was not aware you perceived it as-”

“We’re not doing this, either,” Nagisa says.

_ ‘Perceived it as!?’  _ Perceived it as _ what!?  _ He knows what this is! He is  _ not  _ going to be told how he should feel about this situation when it’s so important to Gakushuu. And he is  _ not  _ going to humor even a moment of Gakuho’s familiar mind games.

“I know you think you’re so transparent, but you’re not. I may have been one of your E-Class kids at one point, but that does not mean I’m stupid, like you seem to think it does. I’ve noticed you’ve called me more ever since Gakushuu cut you off. And I’m sick of it. I’m sick of being used, and Gakushuu’s sick of having to hear about it.” 

Gakuho’s voice is quiet. “...You’ve talked to him about it?” he asks, hope dripping from his words.

Nagisa sends another glance Gakushuu’s way. He’s biting his lip. Hard. All he can do is sigh and reach for his hand, squeezing it tight as if to say.

_ ‘It’ll all be over soon.’ _

Gakushuu’s reluctant gaze seems to reply _ ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’ _

“Yeah. I have,” Nagisa says. “Because I tell him about what’s going on in my life. I’m his husband. It’s my job to tell him about his narcissistic monster of a father trying to stalk him. Not that I think you’d particularly get that much, seeing as how I don’t think you’ve ever once openly talked with the people you care about in your entire life.”

Gakuho’s silence speaks for itself. And even Nagisa finds himself blinking in surprise. Did… He really just say that? He knows he’s been mad at Gakuho, but even then he has to think he went a little far. As annoyed as he is with Gakuho for bringing so much stress to his family, by now he just wants to get this over with. And making things personal is probably the worst way to do that.

The funniest thing - Or maybe just the saddest - is that he doesn’t even try to refute it. Not really. Gakuho doesn’t speak up over Nagisa, deny that he’s a monster, or leap to defend himself. He sits and takes it. That’s the worst part of all.

“...You think I haven’t tried?” he finally says, voice quivering. “I have dedicated the past fifteen years of my life to trying to fix things. But Gakushuu has never once shown interest in making me a part of his life.”

Trying to fix things!?  _ Is that what he calls trying to fix things!?  _ Years of the same perfectionist complex hidden behind nicer words!? Nights spent listening to his son sob in his room, and not knowing what to do!? Not trying!? All the times he slipped and smacked him ‘just once’ in a moment of rage!? The consistent criticism of his choice of friends!? The 1984-level attempt at control over his life, job choice and company!? The desperation to claim his successes as his own, and  _ daring _ to play the wounded father the moment his son cuts him off!?

Having the audacity to say - To  _ realize ‘Gakushuu has no interest in making me a part of his life,’  _ and then daring to call Nagisa anyways!?

If that’s better, Nagisa doesn’t want to know what worse is.

“And so I’m your last resort,” Nagisa says.

“No. That’s no-”

“Yes. It is. That’s all it is. And I’m putting a stop to it.” Nagisa interrupts. “This ends today. No more of this weird small talk where you beat around the bush that is the fact that you hurt Gakushuu. No more trying to make up for it for your own sake, not his. It’s not fair to him, and it’s not fair to me-”

“What about me?” Gakuho asks. “Please-! You must consider what it feels like to be in my shoes!”

_ You put yourself in them! You have no-one to blame but yourself! _

“Gakuho, I’ve spent the past three years considering your feelings. More than you’ve had any right for me to. I can’t do this anymore. For my own sake. And for yours too. I’m hanging up, and I’m blocking your number.”

_ “No!” _

“Yes. Goodbye, Gakuho.”

“Let me talk to him! One last time!  _ Please-!” _ he desperately shrieks.

“No.”

“At least tell me where I went wrong!” Gakuho begs, voice close to tears. “What didn’t I do!?  _ Where wasn’t I good enough!?” _

And in an instant, the phone is snatched from Nagisa’s hand.

“You wanna know where you weren’t good enough!?” Gakushuu asks, trembling with anger. “Because I’ll tell you where you went wrong.”

“Gakus-?”

“No. This isn’t some happy reunion for you,” Gakushuu snarls. “This is your comeuppance. So you sit right there and you fucking take it.

Nagisa jolts. And reaching for the phone with a frown, he says “I’m really not sure this is a good ide-”

“I’m not going to budge on this,” Gakushuu says, yanking the phone away. “No matter what you say. Not this time.”

Nagisa falls silent, then falls back. He brings his hands to his side and sighs. He knows Gakushuu is just going to make himself feel like shit, but if this is really the sort of closure he wants, it’s not Nagisa’s place to take that from him.

“You hear that, old man?” Gakushuu snaps. “I’ll give you what you want. And nothing can stop me. So you wanna know where you screwed up?”

Gakuho’s quiet for a long moment. And then, letting out a heavy breath, he declares, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Gakushuu’s expression twists into a grimace. But clutching the phone so tight his knuckles pale, he speaks up in a low growl. “Yeah. Yeah,” he says. “You can pretend to be the rational one here. I’m overreacting like I always do.”

“I would never accuse you of-” Gakuho begins to speak.

“Yes. You would,” Gakushuu snaps. “Because you’re so calm, and you’re so perfect. But I see through that in an instant. You are a  _ narcissistic, depressed piece of shit, _ who takes it out on everyone around you. What!? Because you’ve had it hard!? Because you’ve lost so much!?”

Nagisa blinks, jaw agape. Is he talking about what he thinks he’s talking about?

“You think you’re the only person in the world who doesn’t deserve to suffer. Who doesn’t deserve to work for what they have.”

“I’ve pushed myself every bit as hard as I’ve pushed you. Don’t you dare accuse me of anything else when I’ve fought to get where I am. Fought to be the best father I could to you.”

Gakushuu chokes back a laugh. _ “The best father you could to me!?” _ he asks, smacking his forehead. “You treated me like garbage!”

“To prepare you for the world!”

“The world that’s treated me so much better than you ever did!?”

_ “I couldn’t risk losing you!”  _ Gakuho shouts, voice strained. “You were my world. Do you think I could send you out there unprepared? Let ingrates tear you apart!?”

“I was your world?” Gakushuu snarls, stifling another laugh. “What!? Because I was your replacement goldfish!? You never gave a shit about me. I was just everything you wish you could have fixed with Ikeda.”

“That is not true!” Gakuho cries. “You were my son! You _ are  _ my son! Just because I’d learned from my losses doesn’t mean you were ever anything less to me-”

“I was your goddamn second chance. You deluding yourself into believing you could fix things. But guess what? You couldn't. You didn’t protect the either of us.”

“I know I didn’t!”

“You convinced yourself you were, but you wanna know all that you taught me? How to hurt people. You didn’t teach me how to protect myself from wanting to die. All you did was teach me how to make other people want to kill themselves! How fucked up is that!?”

“I know it was flawed-”

_ “Flawed!?  _ It was awful! And don’t pretend you’re not still obsessed with it: Your little caste system. You would never consider that you were wrong. You wanna know why? Because you convince yourself you’re always right. Because you know if you’re wrong that makes you one of  _ them.  _ And in your flawed system, anyone who screws up deserves to die.”

“They do  _ not-” _

“Yes. They do. And you know what’s the funniest part about all that? What you never considered? You know if you met him today, you would shove your dumb, inattentive, precious student into some dumb kids program and tell him he’s worthless.”

_ “I WOULD NOT!” _

“Yes. You would. Face it.” Gakushuu snarls. “Hell, as much as he screwed up my entire life, I can’t even blame him for any of his decisions. I would have killed myself to get away from you too! Oh wait!  _ I tried! _ That was your fault, too, wasn’t it!?”

Gakuho inhales sharply. And Nagisa feels his heart stop inside his chest. He still remembers it clearly: The day Gakushuu had tried to kill himself back in his first year of high school. It had been the moment he'd first realized two fundamental things about Gakushuu:

That he, too, had a family beyond repair. And that despite his tough outward demeanor, he needed someone by his side as well.

But bringing that up  _ now!? _

“...Perhaps it was,” Gakuho says, voice close to tears. “And I have tried my damndest to take accountability for that. I have tried to be a better father to you. Will you at least give me credit for that much?”

“Yeah… No,” Gakushuu replies. “How hard you try doesn’t matter, remember? Still a failing grade! A F-Minus! You flunked the test!”

Gakuho’s voice trembles. “You always do this. You  _ always  _ say what you know will hurt me most. What is wrong with you!?”

“I dunno! Why don’t you tell me!? What’s the answer I’ve been looking for all these years!? You’re the one who made me this way! So tell me! How did you break me!?”

“You are not broken.”

“Certainly damn feels like it! Some nights I still wake up crying! Guess I’m catching up considering that you had me convinced through all of my teenage years that if I showed any vulnerability it was weakness! Sometimes, I still think it is! I’m pissed at myself for even letting myself get so worked up talking to you!”

“I _ never _ intended to do this to you.”

“Well you certainly did! Good job!”

“All I wanted to do was turn you into a functional adult. Someone the world wouldn’t walk all over.”

“What!? So you could walk all over me exclusively!?”

“I never-”

“Yes. You did. You just wanted a little Gakuho 2.0, and when I couldn’t be that, you  _ hated _ me.”

“I do  _ not  _ hate you!”

“Well guess what!? I hate you back! And that is never going to change.”

_ “You are **all** I have left! After everything I’ve lost! Ikeda! Your mother! My-” _

“Oh, spare me the sob story. You have no-one to blame but yourself for all the people that have left you. And now you’re gonna let me goddamn go, too. Nothing you say is going to change that. And nothing you say is going to give you some nice little closure. You fucked me up beyond repair, and I want you to lay awake thinking about that for the rest of your life until you join your little prat in death and he inevitably rejects you too.”

Even Nagisa’s jaw drops. This can’t be happening!

“...You really do just love to see me suffer, don’t you?” Gakuho whispers.

“Yeah. I guess it’s just the result of the equally narcissistic, selfish man who you raised. Who you made this way because you hated him. And who will never,  _ ever  _ forgive you.”

“I didn’t hate you!”

“Yes! You did!”

“Everything I ever did, I did for you! **_I loved y-!”_ **

Nagisa can’t take it a moment more. He lunges for the phone and slams his finger on the ‘end call’ button. Tearing the phone away from Gakushuu with ragged breaths and wide eyes, all he’s left to do is stare.

...Gakushuu doesn’t stare back.

He’s looking blankly at his hands, a deep frown on his face. Only now does he seem to notice how hard he’s been breathing. And blinking back tears, he says in an irritated voice. “You didn’t need to take it, you know.”

Nagisa places a firm hand on his shoulder. “...I think I did.”

Gakushuu pulls away, looking wounded. “I… I could have handled it,” he says, fist clenched. “I… I could have handled him. Anything he could have said. I know I could.” Brave words, but from the way he shuts his eyes and grits his teeth, it’s pretty clear it’s taking all of his efforts to avoid bursting into tears right here and now.

“I know you could,” Nagisa says. And he doesn’t. Because he couldn’t have handled that in Gakushuu’s shoes. But he says it, anyways. “That doesn’t mean you should have had to go through that. I saw how upset you were getting.”

“I’m not upset!” Gakushuu groans.

Nagisa gives him an unimpressed look.

“...Okay,” he admits, disgust on his face. “I’m a little upset. Is that what you wanted to hear? He got to me?”

“Of course not,” Nagisa says softly. “Never. But you have to understand how worrying it is seeing you like that.”

“Seeing me like w-?” Gakushuu begins, but quickly relents. Shoulders lowering, he sighs. “...Okay. No. I know,” he admits.

Nagisa gives a tiny nod.

“I thought...” Gakushuu says. “I thought I would feel better after that. After telling him where he went wrong. But, instead, I just feel…” he drifts off.

“Angry?” Nagisa asks.

“Livid,” Gakushuu corrects, a dead look in his eyes.

_ ‘Hurt, too,’  _ Nagisa imagines. But he doesn’t dare say it. Gakushuu was right about one thing: His father had carved an aversion to vulnerability into his very soul. And although they’re working on it every day, something tells him that’s not what Gakushuu wants to hear right now.

Instead, he simply looks down at his phone and starts to block Gakuho’s number. He may as well before the rotten old man calls again and earns another panic attack from Gakushuu.

_ ‘Panic attack.’  _ Christ. It feels miserable when he puts it that way.

He knows Gakushuu went a little far. 

...

Okay - A lot far. But he can’t exactly blame him, either. He knows himself what kind of crushing weight that sort of relationship with your parents forces you to carry. And although he can’t exactly praise Gakushuu for, say, guilt-tripping his father over the death of some kid from 25 years ago, he  _ gets _ where he’s coming from. That had simply been an outburst following years of frustration at his father’s actions.

...And not the first one. There’s a reason Nagisa and the others had begun making actions to tear Gakushuu away from his father. They hated seeing that side of him. And Nagisa knows deep down that Gakushuu doesn’t like the sort of miserable, bitter person he becomes when facing that demon, either.

“It wasn’t going to fix things,” Nagisa simply says. This is the part where he wants to chide _ ‘I told you so,’  _ but would never. “Talking to him, I mean. It’s not like anything he could say would fix what he did to you.”

“I don’t want him to fix it,” Gakushuu says. “He couldn’t if he fucking tried.” He pauses for a long moment, uncurling his fist. “I think… All I wanted was for him to feel bad,” he admits, sighing out through his nose. “And I know that’s petty, but is that too much to ask? I don’t want to hear his  _ ‘I’m doing better’ _ shtick. I’m goddamn sick of it. I just want him to admit to being the bastard he was to me. I just wanted to _ win.  _ Why couldn’t he let me have that?”

Nagisa sighs, too. But he’s afraid he doesn’t have an answer.

“He’s not supposed to care. He never cared. So why couldn’t he just act like it? Do you know how frustrating it is? Just having to sit there and listen to him whine about how _ sad  _ he is? About how much he doesn’t deserve it? It makes me feel defenseless. Like a piece of shit. Like  _ I’m  _ the bad guy here.”

“You’re not,” Nagisa says firmly. “You just… Lashed out.” He looks away. “And… While that wasn’t exactly called for, I can’t fault you, either. And the good news is… We’re never going to have to deal with that again.”

Gakushuu blinks, curling and uncurling his hand. “I’m still processing it,” he admits. “That… It’s the end. That _ that  _ was the end. What sort of victory was that?”

“It wasn’t,” Nagisa says. “He was never going to let you win. But hey… That’s okay, right? Remember? We know that’s not what matters.”

“Mmm.”

“From now on, you’re never going to have to deal with him again. And… I’m sorry for putting you through that for so long. But you’ll never need to feel this way again.”

He knows that’s not true, either. That Gakushuu will a hundred times more. In the bitter midst of untangling his trauma, and on the nights when he lays awake… Realizing the things he said to keep his father awake at night had only been rebounded towards him. And all the same… They’ve already come so far. There’s no stopping now.

“Don’t apologize,” Gakushuu says, rubbing his temples. “...He’s manipulative. I know.”

“Which is why I should have blocked his ass the first time he called me.”

He knows why he hadn’t. That belief that had been ingrained in him because of his Sensei.  _ For  _ his Sensei. The murderous mess of a mentor and angel of death for thousands. Surely, if he deserved a second chance, anyone did. _ Anyone  _ could redeem themselves.  _ Anyone _ could become good.

...Turns out it’s taken him fifteen years to learn that ‘good’ isn’t always enough to make it up to the people you’ve hurt.

“I’m not mad at you,” Gakushuu says.

“I know.”

“I know you hate it when I raise my voice.”

“It was a personal thing. I get it.”

Gakushuu sighs. But hands finally relaxing, he turns Nagisa’s way. “Thank you for… Ending that,” he admits. “I think all it did was make me feel inadequate.”

“No need to thank me,” Nagisa reassures. “It’s my job to look out for you.”

“...No matter what?”

Nagisa nods. “No matter what.”

Finally, Gakushuu relents. He leans into Nagisa’s embrace, burying his face in his shoulder and whining. Even as tears begin to stream down his face, he doesn’t dare pull away.

Something tells Nagisa he doesn’t want to be seen. Not like that. And usually, Nagisa would refute that. But he thinks he’ll let him hide. Just this once.

Because he knows there’s nothing he can do to mend Gakushuu’s hurt. Not right now. Perhaps not ever. That’s okay. Gakushuu needs to find that within himself. And until then, all Nagisa can do is hold him until the storm has passed.

Just like Gakushuu had done for him all those years ago.

_ 'Until he can’t hurt you anymore.' _

* * *

It’s later that day when Makoto comes in looking like he’s seen a ghost.

It’s been a few hours since the confrontation with Gakuho, and Gakushuu’s in his room trying to cool off. The dumbass duo that is Karma and Kayano have since returned, ice cream and chili peppers (“You know. For emergencies.”) in tow. Nagisa’s finishing up helping them carry the groceries inside when Makoto peeks his head into their doorway. Knitting at his hands and with bags under his eyes, he looks like he hadn’t slept at all last night.

That’s enough to make Nagisa drop his groceries in an instant. He places them down by the kitchen table, before heading Makoto’s way. Karma shoots him a confused glance, but the moment Kayano elbows him and directs his attention towards Makoto his tune quickly changes. Near simultaneously, they make their way towards the living room.

“Hey, bud,” Kayano says.

“You look like shit,” Karma decidedly-less-helpfully comments.

Even so, where that would usually earn an amused smirk from Makoto, he simply shrugs. And looking up at the three of them with desperate eyes, he asks “Can I talk to Nagisa?” 

“Of course,” Nagisa says quietly. 

“Just the two of us,” Makoto specifies. “It’s… Uh… Personal,” he admits, sheepishly staring at the floor.

Kayano gives a firm nod. And whereas Karma would usually make some drawn-out joke about how he sees he’s not wanted, for once he reads the room and gives Makoto a thumbs up. Nagisa nods, too, before taking Makoto’s hand and guiding him into the lounge where they can have some privacy.

He gets up onto the couch, motioning for Makoto to take a seat next to him. Makoto hops up, still not speaking as he stares at his feet.

...It’s not like him.

“...So? What did you want to tal-”

“It’s about your family,” Makoto interjects quickly. And for a moment, he even makes eye contact with Nagisa, before inevitably tearing it away. “...Your… Uh…” He pauses. “I don’t want to say ‘real’ family, but you know what I mean. Your dad and your…” He hesitates once more.

“...My mom?”

“Yeah. I wanna talk about your mom,” Makoto says. “And I know that might be painful, so tell me if I should stop, but-”

“No. It’s okay,” Nagisa reassures. “Let’s talk about my mom.”

There’s another long moment of silence.

“So… You didn’t get along, right?” Makoto asks, voice quiet. “She… Didn’t treat you very nice?”

Nagisa sighs. He had a feeling this was coming, but it’s kind of depressing that Makoto’s even  _ thinking  _ about these sorts of things. Everything that happened between him and his biological family has been locked away for a very long time now. And his teacher or not, Makoto's just a kid. It's not his job to worry about this.

“No,” Nagisa admits, pressing his hand to his tie. There’s no use in lying about it. “We didn’t get along.”

“And… It wasn’t just little things, right?” Makoto asks. “She’d… Hurt you, right?”

“Yeah. Really bad,” Nagisa answers, his own gaze falling to the floor. And when Makoto doesn’t speak up in response; Simply shoots him a horrified look, Nagisa supposes there’s something left for him to say. “I didn’t realize you’d remembered that kind of stuff.”

Makoto gives a defeated shrug. “It didn't bother me, really,” he admits. “I mean - Don’t get me wrong. I was really sad anything bad happened to you. But it wasn’t upsetting. Because… I knew how it ended.”

“How it ended?” Nagisa asks.

“At least… I thought I did,” Makoto whispers. “You… Making everything right with your mom! Standing up to her that night at the campus, and protecting her, too. You were so, so cool. The way she finally seemed to realize who you were… What you were capable of… And that she’d let you grow on your own.” 

He frowns deeply as he clasps his fingers. “Or… Or the way I talked to your mom and dad. How I told them about how the divorce was affecting you. I was so certain I’d finally fixed things. That your family was going to go back to normal. But… The more I thought about it… I realized you haven’t mentioned them once since I came back. The family we worked so hard to fix...”

It’s funny. All those years ago, on graduation day, he’d thought the same. That in one final gift, Korosensei had managed to mend the one thing Nagisa thought unmendable. But with time… With scream-fights… And with heartbreak… Nagisa had been forced to realize there were some things even Korosensei couldn’t fix.

“Where are they?” Makoto asks, close to tears. “Please don’t tell me it fell apart again-”

“...There was nothing you could do,” Nagisa says, reaching out to place a hand on Makoto’s shoulder. “My mom was…” He pauses. “She was the sort of person who had extreme ups and downs. And… Everything you did for me was enough to put her up into an upswing for a little while. But when you live like she does… Those sort of things can’t last forever. Eventually, she realized she was still unhappy with her life. And so she went back to taking it out on Dad and I.”

“B-But what about closure!?” Makoto asks, voice growing increasingly desperate. “W-What about finding peace with her? H… How are you ever supposed to be okay with what happened if… if she wouldn’t even try to change it!? What are you even supposed to do!?”

“...I left.”

Makoto’s eyes grow wide and watery. “...You _what?”_

“I left. When I couldn’t take it anymore… When I realized my mom was never going to like me for who I was, and when I realized my dad was always going to enable her, I packed my things and I left. I found a support system outside of them. And… With their help, I’d like to think I made a new family.”

“J… Just like that?” Makoto asks, voice quivering. “But… But what about your mom? Your dad? How could you know if they were going to be okay?”

“I didn’t know,” Nagisa admits. “But I’ll tell you what I did know: What I finally realized: ...I was just a kid. And I  _ never _ asked for any of that. It wasn’t my job to shoulder any of their burdens. And I knew if I kept living that way, I’d grow up into a bitter, unsatisfied adult just like them, with dreams I never got the chance to fulfill. I couldn’t risk that. Not after how much blood and tears had been put into giving me a future at all by people like you.”

Makoto’s silent. Sniffling softly, he stares at his hands.

“...Makoto. Do you mind if I ask you a question, too?”

“No,” Makoto responds, not looking Nagisa’s way.

“Your… Dad isn’t very nice to you either, is he?”

Makoto jolts. It’s clear he hadn’t expected that question. He’s silent, for a long moment, before shaking his head. “No. He’s not,” he admits. “B… But that doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy! He tries really hard t-”

“I’m not saying he is,” Nagisa interjects, squeezing his shoulder. “I would never ask you to tell me your dad is a bad person...You don’t need to explain anything. Not if you don’t want to. And I would never  _ ever _ ask you to abandon your dad if you felt he needed you. But Makoto: I do want to remind you right here and now that no matter what you do… No matter how long in the future, you’ll always have people who support you. If one day you decide you can’t handle what goes on home anymore, you’ll always have a home with us.”

Makoto shoots out towards Nagisa, wrapping his arms around him. Burying his face in his chest and quivering, he mumbles a quick “Thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever had that before.”

Nodding, Nagisa simply jostles his hair. “...It’s the least I can do. You gave me the home I needed those years ago, after all.”

Makoto lets out a little laugh. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.”

It’s a long few minutes before he finally pulls away. But finally, wiping at his eyes, he looks up at Nagisa. “...Thank you for answering my question truthfully,” he says. “I think a lot of other adults would have sugar-coated it, but…” He pauses. “You told me exactly what I needed to hear.”

Now that brings a smile to Nagisa’s face. He stares down at Makoto fondly. “Happy to help.”

And with that, he stands. He stretches and motions for Makoto to follow. “We should probably get heading back in. I bet the others are worried about y-”

“Wait,” Makoto says, voice resolved. He doesn’t stand. “...Before we go… Can I ask you one more question?”

Nagisa blinks, but nods. “Yeah. Of course,” he says. “Anything.”

Makoto lets out a tiny sigh of relief. And refusing to look Nagisa’s way, he simply asks in a hushed voice. “Did… Korosensei ever fail anyone like that?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like… Your parents did. Or Asano-kun’s. It seems like…” He pauses. “It seems like a lot of people were relying on me. Did I ever mess that up?”

Nagisa frowns. And staring down at Makoto, he thinks. 

_ 'Now that’s a heavy question.' _

He thinks about the well-intentioned, but misguided advice he’d received on that fateful night. And even so… He could never hold it against Korosensei.

Korosensei… Teacher; Monster; Savior; Hero. Father and harbinger. Killer of thousands, and a scared little boy in a war-torn world.

Looking at Makoto’s shameful frown, he thinks he catches sight of that scared little boy shining through right now.

With all he’s been… All he’s done… And all he’s become… Somehow Nagisa doesn’t feel right placing a label on any of his actions.

He reaches out for Makoto’s hand and shakes his head. 

“Makoto, everyone fails sometime or another. You and me included. That’s just a part of life… A part of learning. I’m sure you’ve made your mistakes. But even so… Someone messing up doesn’t make them bad. It doesn’t make you bad. Messing up just leaves the people around you free to react. And as long as you never fault them for that… Try to understand where they’re coming from… I think you’re already on the way to making up for any mistakes you’ve made.”

“...Already on the way to making up for it,” Makoto repeats, voice soft. Finally, he stands. “...Huh. I guess that’s fair.”

“Though I must ask… Why are you thinking about that?” Nagisa inquires. “You’re not remembering anything that’s bothering you, are you?”

“Nah,” Makoto says, taking his hand. “Nothing that can keep me down.”

Nagisa’s not one hundred percent sure about that, but he decides not to press for now. He trusts Makoto to come forward about anything that’s upsetting him when he’s ready.

He helps pull Makoto up onto his feet. “You wanna get back in with the others?” he asks. “Don’t hold me to this, but I think I heard the door open. Kiyoshi or Fumiko might have stopped by while we were having our little heart to heart.”

Quickly, Makoto perks up. And he nods. “I’d like that,” he says.

And guiding him back into the living room, Nagisa swears he catches a glimpse of a happier, safer boy, too.

…A boy who no longer wants to worry about his regrets.

* * *

Nagisa’s in the other room with Makoto when Fumiko steps in.

Kayano and Karma are more or less just making small talk. Kayano’s caved in to self-indulgence and cracked open one of the many cups of pudding they bought at the grocery store, and Karma’s lounging across the couch as they chat. They’re discussing something completely mundane when the door creaks open and Fumiko enters.

To be brutally honest, the first thing that Kayano notices about Fumiko is that she looks _ exhausted _ . The second thing she notices about Fumiko, however, is that she looks  _ resolute. _

“Hey,” Kayano says, waving her over. “Sorry if you’re looking for Nagisa and Makoto. They’re a bit busy with something right now, but-”

“No,” Fumiko interjects, shaking her head. “I was actually looking for you.” She sends a glance Karma’s way. “The both of you. Asano-san too, if possible.”

“I’m afraid he’s pretty occupied,” Karma admits. “Some stuff went down earlier today. But we’re happy to help-”

“As am I.”

Kayano jolts. And every eye in the room drifts to where the aforementioned Asano stands in the doorway.

“Gakushuu!” Karma says, grinning.

“Hello,” he says.

Kayano frowns. “I thought you were-”

“Yeah. I was,” Gakushuu confirms. “But that’s besides the point now. I heard the two of you had arrived and came in to help you unload the car.” He pauses. “Seems I’m a little bit too late for that, but if Fumiko’s in need of assistance, I’m here to hear her out.”

Fumiko’s expression lifts. And quickly, she struts her way over to the three of them.

“...So all three of you will give me a hand?” she asks.

“Depends,” Karma says with an inquisitive rub of his chin. “What are you asking of us?” 

Fumiko shoots him a glare.

“Joking, of course,” he says. “Mostly, at least. You’re still gonna have to let us in on your little plan, though.”

Fumiko rolls her eyes. “Little plan…” She repeats dismissively. “It’s much more than that. But nonetheless I will give you the honor of hearing me out.”

Kayano and Gakushuu exchange an amused glance. Now there’s the Fumiko they know and love.

“Yukimura-san… Akabane-san… Asano-san, the three of you have two of the most respectable people I’ve ever met amongst your midst,” she begins, cheekily sticking her tongue out at Karma. “And while I respect Shiota-sensei’s professionalism and kindness, he’s rather smothering. What I am about to ask you for assistance with is not something I wish for you to do for me. I simply come to the three of you to ask for advice. Because from the clues I have gathered, I’ve come to the conclusion you have all been in my shoes at one point or another.”

Karma cocks an eyebrow. Asano shoots him an incredulous glance. But it’s Kayano who finally steps forward.

“Of course,” she says. “What is it?”

And looking more resolute than ever, Fumiko meets her eyes.

“I’d like your help in finding a way to break away from my parents.”

Kayano stares. And Karma's mouth forms into an 'o.' But crazy as it sounds, Kayano thinks she finally sees some sort of light return to Gakushuu's eyes.

_ "We'd be more than happy to help." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant it when I said this chapter was LONG, ahahaha. So sorry about the wait, but I hope you enjoyed the extra long chapter! I don't think we've had one this long since chapter 11.
> 
> Sorry again that this one was a little bleak, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! I'd say this chapter is somewhat of a segway from the previous arc focusing on "family," and the upcoming arc focusing on "accountability," both for things you've done on purpose and things you've done on accident. I feel like I meshed the two pretty well and I'm happy with how it came out.
> 
> Sorry about dragging Makoto through the dirt like that. But again, this is a scene I've wanted to do from the start. Something I've always processed as one of Korosensei's biggest flaws is his ability to believe anyone can be redeemed through a simple heart to heart, even child abusers like Gakuho and Hiromi. This has carried on to Makoto, and sadly given him a bit of a dose of reality. I can't help but wonder if that aspect of Korosensei's characterization comes from a desperation to believe he himself can be redeemed after mistreating 2.0., and so I represented that here too. 2.0 will be coming up a lot in the next few chapters, so be excited for Discussion Of Boy.
> 
> And discussion of Aguri, of course. Here she is coming up again. It seems Makoto still doesn't remember her, but Kayano's never going to forget. I had a LOT of fun writing the discussion between her and Nagisa, and while I'm not sure it 100% meshes with the themes of the rest of the chapter, I needed to put it around this point in the story. Needless to say, expect her to keep coming up, too. 
> 
> The Asanos section was heartwrenching to write. But there it comes up again: That idea of accountability and what redemption really means or earns you. Gakuho is genuinely a better person, but that'll never erase the hurt he did to his son. It's like Nagisa reinforces at the end of the chapter: At best all you can do is leave the people around you to react to how you treat them. It's not Gakushuu's job to forgive Gakuho, both because Gakushuu was just a victim, and because he still views his father through a toxic lense regardless of how his dad actually acts.
> 
> And of course: Fumiko. If there's any light found in this chapter its in her life. It seems she's finally taking some sort of control of it.
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were Familiar from Steven Universe, I Miss You by Kimya Dawson, Sisters by Radical Face, You Were Loved by Fein, Lion's Teeth by The Mountain Goats, Get Out And Stay Out from 9 to 5, and Father by The Front Bottoms,
> 
> I don't know if the next chapter will be up in 1 week or 2, so look forward to that either way. When it's out will be a surprise! :D
> 
> Special thanks to my friend Melody for proofreading the bit with Makoto and his dad. It was a little to uncomfortable for my beta to read (100% understandably,) and she offered to do it in a spiffy. I really appreciate it!
> 
> As always, let me know what you thought, and I hope to see you again soon! o7


	19. Shadowed By Time

On the educational side of Nagisa’s life, things seem bright.

The atmosphere at home is still a little weird. There’s no way it couldn’t be after all that went down. And while Gakushuu returns to his usual cool demeanor, Nagisa has a feeling it’ll still be a little while before he feels truly normal. That’s okay, though. Because the three of them are resolved to help him out in the meantime. 

It’s in the little things. The way Karma flops down on the couch next to him and slings his arm around his shoulder... The soft reassurances from Nagisa that everything will be okay; that he knows from experience… And the times after dinner that Kayano slides him the self-indulgent desserts he knows he wants but is too haughty to admit to.

Which isn't to say she doesn't have her problems, either. Nagisa senses them… late at night, when he catches her lying awake and staring at the ceiling. He searches for something to say… something to do. And when nothing comes, he simply wraps his arms around her and holds her tight.

“...Everything will be okay.”

It’s at times like those that he tries to reflect on Korosensei, his grief, and his beautiful reunion with Makoto.

He’d like to think those reassurances come from experience, too. That one day she'll come home to her.

At school there’s significantly less demons for him to fight. His students are thriving. And sure enough, their second-trimester Midterms come back looking bright. They’re making breakthroughs in subjects he’d worried they’d never understand, and getting better at assassination every day.

Needless to say, Makoto and co. are doing wonderfully, too. While Makoto still seems somewhat bothered by his conversation with Nagisa, he’s back to himself in no-time. And he even nearly pulls off another successful ‘assassination’ one lazy PE period. 

Fumiko is becoming more ‘herself’ every day, and last Nagisa’s heard, his spouses are helping her out with some secret project. He’s not sure the details, nor does he find it his place to dig seeing as how he trusts them on whatever it is, but her smile seems to grow more and more confident with each passing day.

Even Kiyoshi… Shy, meek Kiyoshi seems closer with his group than ever. Nagisa begins to see him initiate conversations with them on his own, watches him gleefully share inside jokes as if he’s no longer living in fear of being shunned.

Life is good.

At least until Yoshito has a mental break.

To be truthful, Nagisa had stopped worrying about Yoshito a long time ago. Although he’d seemed fairly reclusive at the start of the year, he’d since taken to Emiko and Minako like a fish to water. With that standoffish, independent demeanor of his, Nagisa had mostly given him his space. And he’d seemed content with that. Nagisa had liked to think they’d found an understanding. So that’s why it’s so surprising when Yoshito bolts out of class in the middle of English with a frustrated scream.

Beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, Nagisa quickly stands and excuses himself. As usual, he puts Riko and Komoshi as the class representatives in charge and says he’ll be back in one moment.

He finds Yoshito in the teacher’s lounge, hiding out and scratching at the hardwood floor until his nails are close to bleeding. When Nagisa asks him what’s wrong, he simply receives an irritated response.

“Yeah. Of course you wouldn’t know.”

It takes a solid three minutes of coaxing to get anything out of him. And by the time he does, Nagisa feels his heart snap. Tears spilling down his face, Yoshito admits rumors about his “psychotic sister” had been spread throughout his neighborhood, and even into the school. Subsequently, some neighborhood kids had started picking on him on his way to school, and giving him trouble making it here.

Finally, he’d snapped when Rosey, in the seat behind him, had made a lighthearted joke about him ‘going crazy,’ too. He admits he knows she hadn’t meant anything by it, but it had been the last straw. He’d felt ‘really close to punching her,’ when he’d gotten up, stormed out of the room, and ‘decided to hurt himself instead.’

Yoshito holds up his mangled nails, grimacing.

Nagisa admits that while he’s proud of him for taking himself out of the situation before it escalated into a fight, neither he, nor anyone else here would ever want to see Yoshito hurt himself. He takes him by the hand and offers him band-aids, reassuring him that if Yoshito ever feels frustrated in the future, he should know he can always come to Nagisa to talk.

Yoshito’s nose wrinkles with disgust.

“For someone who goes on about all that shit so often, you really are preformative,” he says. “If you cared as much as you pretended to, you would have noticed earlier.”

Before Nagisa can interject, Yoshito stands, wiping at his pant leg with a bandaged hand. “Not that you really care, do you? Not if we’re not one of your  _ real _ favorite students.”

Alongside telling him he’ll find a way to deal with his bullies, Nagisa reassures him that he doesn’t have any favorite students. That he loves each and every one of them, and that if Yoshito is perceiving it that way it’s something he’d be willing to work through. The last thing he wants to be seen as is someone uncaring. Even so, Yoshito quickly brushes his attempts at reassurance off, and says that all he wants is to get back to the classroom.

Try as he might, ultimately all Nagisa can do is oblige. The last thing he’d want to do is keep Yoshito here when he’s frustrated enough as is. He offers a hand as he leads Yoshito back into the classroom. 

Yoshito doesn’t take it.

The rest of the day seems to go by in a haze. And even when Makoto gives Nagisa a hug on the way out of the school, he barely processes it.

Because on one hand, he’d like to tell himself that’s simply not right… That the rejection Yoshito is facing in other aspects of his life is simply bleeding through to his perception of Nagisa. And even so… Nagisa refuses to be the teacher who dismisses his students’ concerns so swiftly. Regardless of whether or not it’s true, Yoshito feels that way, and that’s unacceptable.

...To be truthful, his concerns aren’t entirely unfounded.

It’s not that Nagisa had done it deliberately. But looking back on it… Yoshito had been regularly showing up to class late for the past two weeks. And although Nagisa had simply handwaved it as an aspect of the apathetic student not taking class overly seriously, it’s now revealed itself to be something much more dire. He should have asked Yoshito before jumping to conclusions, because the situation he’s found himself in is one he’d promised he’d never let himself befall to:

Not seeing his student.

His head still spinning as he enters his home, he has to wonder just who else he’s letting have their issues fly under the radar. Emiko’s trauma… She’s never opened up about it. Rin’s father… Is their situation getting any better? Misaki… How is she doing in light of her recovery?

They’re things he doesn’t want to push. If they don’t want to share, they’re under no obligation to. But even so… is someone desperately crying for help?

Someone he can’t hear? Drowned out under the sound of the ‘Korosensei’ conspiracy he’s gotten himself so wrapped up in?

No… No. He wouldn’t pick favorites. He’s simply… Lost track of his priorities. He’ll fix it. He swears.

None of his spouses are home yet. Heart aching, he goes straight to bed. 

His head hits the pillow. And with eyes shut tight, he promises himself he’ll do everything in his power to prevent himself from making the same mistakes again.

* * *

_ “Messing up just leaves the people around you free to react. And as long as you never fault them for that… Try to understand where they’re coming from… I think you’re already on the way to making up for any mistakes you’ve made.” _

Try as he might, Makoto just can’t get his mind off of Nagisa’s words

He’d… Made an awful lot of mistakes, hadn’t he? The more he dwells on it, the more he comes to that conclusion. Up until very recently, he’d lived in a world where Korosensei was perfect. But now... When he tries to focus on that nameless little boy’s face, all he can process is the sensation of slamming him into a wall.

“Do better,” he hisses, voice low and unfamiliar. The boy quivers, flowers wilting in hand.

The moment he turns, he swears he feels a glare on the back of his neck.

The weirdest thing is… He’s never remembered this boy until now. He… Wasn’t in any of his memories of the E-Class, right? 

_ ‘No,’  _ he decides. It certainly doesn’t feel like it. Why, then? 

“You need to train harder,” he says, not giving the boy a second glance.

“I’m doing my best.” His tone is meek, but Makoto can’t help but detect some kind of indignance buried under the surface.

If Korosensei hears it too, he certainly doesn’t say anything.

What are they training for, anyways? Sometimes Makoto swears he catches the glint of a blade in the boy’s hand. And his heart skips a beat.

...Had… Korosensei had someone trying to kill him before the E-Class?

It’s certainly something Makoto hasn’t heard of. Not even from Fumiko or Nagisa. And they’re… Like… His biggest fans! But it’s the only option he can fathom. If he stayed with the E-Class until the very end, then this had to have fallen before. A secret killer... the first attempt.

But then… Where did… Where did he go?

Every time Makoto sees him, he swears his resentment grows. During Assassination, when Nagisa blocks his blade just right… The boy scoffs and glares. Listening to his father snore at night… He sits, curled up in the same fearful position. And out in the school’s garden, watching hyacinth and basil bloom, he swears he catches the boy weep.

The next time he sees him, however, he carries himself with confidence.

Spotlights: Bewildering and bright. They illuminate the boy’s face, his smile almost skeletal. He’s hardly a boy anymore, now. All grown up; heart filled with hate.

Authorities. That’s what it is. Surrounding them on every side. 

_ ‘This was supposed to be an easy target! No! Why are they here!?’ _

He whirls around to face the boy, reaching out to grab him by the collar. 

_ ‘It’s you! Wasn’t it!? I knew I never should have trusted you! I did everything right, and you had the audacity to-” _

His arm falters before he can grab at the boy. Knees feeling weak, he can’t bring himself to take another step.

**_‘No. No. It’s all over.’_ **

He thinks he’s going to cry.

_ ‘Look at what you’ve done! And after I took you in from  _ **_nothing!’_ **

The boy simply smiles. And turning back around to re-enter the building, he pinches at his forehead and pulls up.

As if it’s second nature, he effortlessly pulls the skin up and off over his brow. His flesh and viscera as clear as day, and glistening in the bright light. He blinks, unphased, as if he’d simply removed a mask. And then, taking a step back into the building, he only has one declaration for Korosensei:

_ “It’s funny. You never saw what I really looked like, did you?” _

It’s a taunt and accusation all in one.

Even as he disappears into the dark of the building, Korosensei can’t will himself to move. Though whether it’s out of a sheer terror, or an apathy towards whatever the boy does next is unclear. Hands trembling, he forces himself to turn back towards the authorities.

Even now, he maintains a calm smile. He’ll… Work through this, too. He tells himself. He always has. And even so, Makoto feels terror rise in his gut.

_ ‘This can’t be how it ends,’  _ Korosensei reassures himself.

_ ‘This has to be how it ends,’  _ Makoto decides.

None of it’s right! Who was that boy!? Who are these people! Where’s his superpowers! Where’s Nagisa!? This isn’t how he died, is it!?

_...His hands. _

**_Why does he have hands?_ **

He forces himself to stare at them. And quiver as they may, human they are.

_ ‘No. No. _ **_It can’t be.’_ **

Makoto swears he feels his knees buckle as he’s thrust back into the world of the waking.

He bolts up, heart pounding in his chest. He looks around the room and comes to the realization that he’s simply at home. The TV blares, just barely audible, and his father snores across the room.

...Ah.

_ ‘So it was… Just a bad dream,’  _ he tries to tell himself. But that doesn’t stick for a second. No. Maybe to him - Maybe to  _ Makoto  _ \- But after everything he’d seen, he has an inkling that in reality, it’s anything but.

Before he can even begin to ask himself what any of that meant, he stumbles to his feet. He thinks more than anything right now he just needs a drink. In the dim light, he tiptoes over to the kitchen and grabs himself a glass of water. He brings it to shaky lips, praying it’ll do something to ease the unease in his chest.

A moment passes. And then two. When he still hears a ringing in his ears, he decides it hadn’t worked.

Even so, he doesn’t let go of the glass. Staggering over to a chair, he sits, and stares at his reflection, distorted by the water.

He frowns. All this time, he’d thought he’d found himself through Korosensei. Found that he was something… Good. Something better than 'Makoto' could ever be.

But now, all he can find it in himself to ask is  _ ‘who were you really?’ _

Because despite spotting his clearly human hands with his own two eyes... Remembering the pain he’d inflicted with them leaves him with the feeling that somehow Korosensei had been even less human than he’d previously thought.

* * *

“Dude. You alive?”

Nagisa comes to with a groan. Blinking groggily, he rolls over and buries his face in his pillow.

An impatient hand taps at his shoulder firmly. And an amused voice pipes up with “Yeah. No. You’ve been sleeping for four hours. Time to get up, big boy.”

Four hours? What is that supposed to mean? There’s  _ no way _ he’s been napping for four hours. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. Karma’s just… Messing with him, right?

He rolls over again, letting out a stubborn groan. “This isn’t funny, Karma.”

“Isn’t funny?” Karma asks. “What are you talking about?” A pause.” I hope you realize I  _ will _ pick you up and shake you awake if need be.”

“No, you wouldn’t…” Nagisa mumbles, pulling the pillow further over his face.

He then feels a pair of icy fingers slide under his arms. With a heave, Karma makes the motion to lift him out of bed.

That wakes him up in an instant.

“Okay! Okay! I’m awake!” he declares, eyes shooting open. He flails and tears himself out of Karma’s grasp, shooting him a nasty glare as he begins to process his surroundings.

“About time, sleepyhead.”

Nagisa simply gives him an annoyed look, before glancing towards the clock. Sure enough: Karma hadn’t been shitting him. It really is 6 in the evening. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes and shaking his head in disbelief.

“...I can’t believe I slept that long.”

To be truthful it’s not  _ that _ long of a time, but it  _ is _ sorta the point where ‘nap’ crosses over into ‘depression nap,’ and Nagisa hardly sleeps after school anyway unless something is seriously wrong.

...Oh jeez. Something  _ had _ happened, hadn’t it? Nagisa had almost forgot.

“Me neither,” Karma admits, plopping down on the bed. He scratches at the back of his shoulder. “The others and I were beginning to get worried. Thought you’d had a stroke or something. Makoto was just about ready to volunteer to wake you up, but Kayano put a stop to that. Something-something he’d ‘jump on the bed and then he’d  _ really _ give you a stroke.” He snorts. “So I suppose the Nagisa-check-up-ing got entrusted to me, which really isn’t much better for your feeble little heart, but here we are.”

Christ. Nagisa had forgotten Makoto was over. Like - Of course he is, he’s over pretty much every day, but he must have been pretty damn worried to see Nagisa just disappear like that. At the very least, Nagisa should have given him a heads up that he wasn’t feeling too hot. But in the moment he’d just forgot. 

It makes him feel bad. He’s supposed to be a teacher who’s open with his students. And that means not disappearing, locking himself in his room, and taking a depression nap for four and a half hours on a Thursday afternoon. That’s just unprofessional. 

...He is _ really _ not as good at this as he’d like to think sometimes.

“Thanks,” he finally says. “Even if I’m still mad you tried to pick me up like a ragdoll.”

“Aw! Come on! That’s just our thing! As hubbies!”

Calling each other ‘dude’ and picking each other up like a sack of potatoes? Nagsia can practically feel himself swoon.  _ Real romantic. _

“Please never say that again,” he murmurs, rubbing at his temple.

“Say what?” Karma says, feigning ignorance.

“Hubbies.”

“What!?” Karma says. “I, for one, think it’s an adorable term.”

He must finally catch up on Nagisa’s irritation, however, because he runs out of jokes when he meets his eyes. “So I’m taking it you weren’t just tired?” he asks.

“No,” Nagisa admits.

“Did something happen at school?”

“A little more than ‘something.’ A kid had a total breakdown,” Nagisa admits.

Karma raises an eyebrow, frowning. “What do you mean?”

_ “I dunno, man,”  _ Nagisa murmurs, running his fingers through his hair. “Some kids in his neighborhood had been picking on him, and it was really stressing him out. I hardly even got the chance to ask what they were doing.  _ Good god  _ \- They could be hitting him. And I didn’t even  _ notice.  _ This has been going on at least two weeks, and I’m only just now finding out.”

Karma blinks. “Well… Hey. At least you know now. You’ll figure something ou-”

“He hates me now.”

“Scuse me?”

“He _ hates  _ me,” Nagisa repeats. “...He wasn’t mad at the kids for picking on him, Karma. He was mad at  _ me _ for not picking up on it. At the beginning of the year I told him - Told everyone - that they could come to me with anything. But in his moment of need… When he was crying for help… I’d been too busy to see."

Karma’s quiet for a long moment. “He seriously told you he hates you?” 

“Yes,” Nagisa replies.

Karma stares, the little cogs in his brain turning as he attempts to formulate a response. But right now, Nagisa doesn’t exactly want to hear it. Hear reason. He knows what he feels, and knows it’s not reasonable. So instead, he speaks up before Karma can get the chance.

“You have… No idea how much I resent myself for that. More than anything, I just want to be there for them. It’s my  _ job,  _ Karma. The promise I made to them when I took them in. If I can’t do that…” Nagisa bites his lip. “Well, then I’m scared.” He sighs. “The other night, Kayano brought up the fact that my job freaks her out sometimes. That she’s scared one day something horrible is going to happen to my students and that there will be nothing I can do about it. She finally put it into words for me. I’m scared. 

“...Today in the teachers' lounge, watching Yoshito freak out, I was scared I was going to lose him. And that it wouldn’t be because of something beyond my control. That it would be  _ because _ of me. I can’t handle the idea of that kind of failure. Not ever. Because… In letting him suffer alone, that means I’ve failed to uphold the values I promised to protect as a teacher.” Another long pause. “Means I’m failing to uphold everything Korosensei stood for.”

Karma places a firm hand on Nagisa’s shoulder. 

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true!”

“No. It’s not,” Karma repeats. “You work yourself to the bone. You work yourself harder than even Korosensei ever did. Just because you shat the bed this time doesn’t mean you’re some sort of child-hating maniac.” He shrugs. “You know. Like most teachers we’ve met are? So, like, the bar is underground and you’re already doing great.”

Nagisa sighs out through his nose. “You’re not making me feel better, Karma.”

Karma wilts. “Sorry,” he admits. “I’m - Uh - Not actually that great at this comforting stuff. But you know I _hate it_ when you talk about yourself that way.”

“I know…” Nagisa replies. “But… This time is different.”

“How?” Karma asks. “Is it really, or are you just looking for another excuse to take this out on yourself?”

“I mean, for one, he didn’t even just say he hated me. He told me himself this was my fault. Hell, he accused me of paying more attention to certain students than others. I don’t want to believe that’s true. I’m trying so hard to be diligent. To help each and every one of them how they need it. But…” 

He can’t help but think about how not exactly all of his students have been gifted a birthday cake.

_ Shit, man…  _ Maybe he  _ is  _ playing favorites.

“Maybe I _am_ screwing this up.”

Karma’s grip on his shoulder tightens. “You’re gonna hate me for saying this, but just because the kid says it doesn’t mean it’s true. Yes, he’s hurting. And yes, he’s angry. But that doesn’t mean it’s really your fault. You seem to forget this sometimes with how much of a papa hen you are to them, but kids can be vindictive little shits. For all we care, he’s just taking it out on you. Wanting you to blame yourself because he’s hurting too. It’s not out of the question. Look at how I treated poor Korosensei at first.”

“Don’t just sit and take it. Prove him wrong. Be more supportive than ever.”

“I’m  _ intending to,”  _ Nagisa replies. “No matter what he says… What he does, I’m not giving up on him. But what if he’s right? What if I’m not enough? And what if this is something even I can’t fix? I get what you’re saying, Karma, I really do. But ‘vindictive’ or not, it’s my job as a teacher not to dismiss their concerns like that. I don’t care _ why _ they’re lashing out. I care that they’re hurting at all. And the day I can’t notice and begin to fix the source of that… Or, god forbid, the day I’m the cause of their hurt, is the day I no longer deserve my title.”

“...That won’t happen,” Karma says. “I know you’re stressed right now, but that’s not what happened. You’re just crazy hard on yourself.”

“I have to be,” Nagisa insists. “If I’m not hard on myself, I’ll never be able to protect them.” His hands fall to his sides. “I… Can’t allow that. I just can’t. I need to stand up for them. Because I already feel like I’m not doing enough. Hundreds of students apply to my school every three years. And if I can’t stand up for even 24 of them, what do I have my title for? I want to be able to enroll more of them. I don’t want to leave anyone out in the cold. But to do that, I need to do better.”

“What you _ need  _ to do is hire more teachers," Karma says "Get a student-teacher to help you take care of these things, and then work on finding more real teachers so you can expand the enrollment size. We’ve been telling you this-”

Nagisa scowls. He’s heard it a hundred times before. And all of his spouses agree on it. So, he, like…  _ Gets it. _ But at the same time… After growing up surrounded by teachers like Gakuho and Takaoka, how is he supposed to go out on a limb and trust like that? Hand over a position in his dream school - Hand over his vulnerable students - To people he doesn’t know? What if they hurt them too?

“You know why I can’t do that, Karma. You said it yourself, Karma. Most teachers are ‘child hating maniacs.’”

“That was hyperbole.”

“Was it, though?”

Karma sighs.

“I just don’t feel comfortable putting already at-risk students in a situation like that. I’m… The only person I can trust with this,” Nagisa says, avoiding looking Karma’s way. 

“What are you going to do, then?”

“About what?” Nagisa asks. “There are so, so many issues with how I’m running things.” 

_ ‘With yourself,’  _ the voice inside his head adds on. But even Nagisa’s smart enough to not voice that one in front of Karma.

“Let’s start simple. Yoshito. What are you going to do about Yoshito?”

“...I don’t know yet,” Nagisa admits. Staring up at the ceiling and watching the fan spin round, he swears he feels his head spin, too. “I… Should really get that figured out.” And in an instant, he’s on his feet. He takes a step towards the doorway, mumbling “Enough of being self-pitying. I need to get that worked out. Not to mention I’m behind on grading.”

Karma grabs his hand. Shaking his head, he says. “No. I’m not letting you do that.” He tugs at his hand with a frown. “I want you to think about this for, like, ten seconds. You’re on the brink of an anxiety attack. You haven’t even eaten dinner yet. And you need to give yourself a break. Your students will understand if you return their essays a day later. Even if they  _ wouldnt,  _ I’m not letting you work in this condition. You look just about ready to pass out.”

Nagisa _ feels _ just about ready to pass out. Rather pathetic, considering he just slept for four hours. He tugs back at his hand.

“Let go, Karma,” he begs.

“No,” Karma says simply.

“...Please,” He says, a twinge of irritation in his voice. “I’ll be fine.”

“No.  _ You won’t,” _ Karma says. “And while I know you’re obsessed with pushing yourself, you won’t be any good to your kids burnt out, much less dead. You can’t keep working yourself like this. You’re going to have a goddamn heart attack.”

Nagisa stops in his tracks… Bites down on his lip. But with another tug from Karma’s hand, he finally relents and sits back down on the bed.

“...There we go,” Karma says, placing a hand on his back.

Nagisa sighs. “I’ll rest a minute. Will that make you happy?”

“Mildly,” Karma says. “If you  _ really  _ wanna make me happy, though, you’re gonna have to have a nice therapy session with your husband, actually eat your dinner, and get a good night's sleep for once in your life.”

Nagisa rubs at his eyes, frowning. He hates how stubborn Karma can be sometimes. He knows that Karma’s only worried, and while he’s relieved their butting-heads has gone from topics like ‘should we commit premeditated murder?’ to ‘please practice basic self-care,’ he wishes Karma would get just how important this is to him.

He’s not pushing himself for no reason! He’s not doing this because he hates himself or something. He’s pushing himself because they  _ need  _ him. And in a life or death situation like this, he can’t afford to rest.

He flops down on the bed, sprawling out with exhaustion. He stares up at the ceiling.

“...Sometimes I wish I had his powers,” he admits, watching the fan go in circles.

Karma gives him a peculiar stare. But Nagisa pays it no mind.

“Sensei could do anything,” he muses, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And he did. All for us. Remember the time he built us a pool?” He gives a sad laugh. “Or the time he showed up to your house in the middle of the night to help you study for midterms? No ordinary teacher could do those things. Not even if they tried.” Slowly, his smile fades. “But Sensei was different. He was… There for all of us. He never let one of our issues fall through the cracks. There were... What? 28 of us by the end of the year? And he still had time to take care of each and every one of us.”

“The man had superpowers, Nagisa.”

“Exactly,” Nagisa says, melancholy to his voice. “Sometimes, I wish I did, too. I know… What he went through was hell. I know his life was hell. But I’d go through it all in a moment if it would let me protect those kids.”

If it would let him live up to Korosensei. 

Karma shrugs. “I think we all wish we could have superpowers sometimes,” he admits. “Would certainly make my job a lot easier too. What’s that, Ryoma-san? You don’t like my policies? Guess it’s time to dropkick you at supersonic speeds.”

That earns a snort from Nagisa. “I’m pretty sure that’s murder, Karma.”

“Oh, what about it?” Karma dismissively says. “Considering both that we spent a solid year specifically learning how to kill people  _ and _ the fact that politicians can get away with literally anything, I’m pretty sure the ‘legality’ or ‘morality’ of this situation goes out the goddamn window.”

Nagisa rolls his eyes, but sends Karma an amused glance.

Karma returns a smile that seems to say ‘checkmate. I did it. I made you laugh.’ But proud as he may be, he quickly returns to a stern expression.

“But need I remind you these superpowers in particular were not only  _ insanely painful  _ to acquire - And I’m talking, like, the dude described vomiting blood on the floor painful, - but were  _ also  _ the reason he was murdered, and were invented by a now-dead sociopath in the first place. I’d call that about a lost cause.”

...And… Nagisa knows that. He knows about what Korosensei had been through. It haunts him at night... Thinking of the pain and loss he’d endured. sometimes Nagisa’s left to wonder... If Korosensei had known… If Korosensei had somehow had a choice... Would he really have been willing to go through with all of that just for the chance to nurture them? What if…

_...What if even they weren’t worth it? _

That’s… Not the Sensei he knew, right? Just a product of his nightmarish imagination? Even so, it’s a concept that haunts him. And part of the reason he’d promised himself that he’d do absolutely anything for his students. Face anything. Become anyone. Suffer through each and every burden.

Even if more often than not his burdens are just his spouses telling him to ‘take care of himself’ instead of ‘working until he passes out from literal exhaustion.’

Pah. 

None of which is to mention the ‘pioneer’ (And he uses that term insanely loosely) of antimatter - The dreaded Yanagisawa. If Karma is right about anything, it’s that. The discovery of Korosensei’s life-altering superpowers… The same ones that had changed the E-Class’s lives and salvaged their futures had been no more than the result of a narcissistic, delusional madman doing whatever the hell he wanted to another human being. It’s… sickening to think that the only reason some of them could be here today is because Korosensei went through that.

Even following the final confrontation, and Yanagisawa’s subsequent paralysis, there had never appeared to be a shred of warmth in that man’s cold, withered heart. Kayano had visited him once or twice, begging for answers - Some sort of reasoning for what he’d dared to put her, her sister, and her sensei through. But up until the very end, he’d never handed them over. Never given her the satisfaction.

And on the day he finally died, it’s a little sad to admit... But it feels the E-Class had rejoiced. 

Karma must notice Nagisa lost in thought. He gives his shoulder a gentle shake. “You gotta admit that I’m right, don’t you? That it’s all a little messed up?”

“Yeah,” Nagisa says. “It’s all a lot messed up. But it’s nice to imagine sometimes. If… there hadn’t been all the hurt… Hadn’t been all the cruelty… And if people had understood Korosensei, what we could have done with powers like those in a better world.”

Karma’s quiet for a moment as he mulls that one over. “I suppose,” he muses, rubbing his chin. “There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of daydreaming.” He pauses. “But even so, it gets sorta funky when you really think about it. Like… What are we talking about here in this cruelty-free, full-organic, ‘we the people can utilize Korosensei’s god powers’ utopia? What are the mechanics?”

“Excuse me?”

“In your dream world, does, like, everyone have superpowers? ‘Cause when everyone’s super, no-one is. And in that scenario, you couldn’t… Like… Use superspeed to nurture kids because they’d be using their own superspeed to, like, trade Pokemon cards and put a hole in your ceiling. But if everyone doesn’t have superpowers, what does that seem to imply? Do they get them when they turn eighteen? Or do only certain people get the octopowers?” Nagisa can practically hear the little gears in his brain turning as he tosses himself further into the ridiculous theoreticals of such a world. “Because the latter scenario seems to imply some sort of dystopian, eugenics-motivated, superpower-bestowing fascist government, which I’m not sure lines up with the whole escapist fantasy thing-”

“What are you even talking about!?” Nagisa finally interjects with a laugh. Wheezing with disbelief, he asks “Did you just quote Incredibles at me?”

“Well, shit,” Karma says, stretching. “You caught me. As for what I’m talking about, however, I’m simply using logical fallacies to poke holes in your fantasies.”

“Thanks, Karma,” Nagisa says dryly.

“Aww! Come on. I made you laugh.”

Nagisa simply huffs.

“And in all seriousness, I don’t like you comparing yourself like that, even just in theory,” Karma says. “You’re never going to be able to do those things. So… cut it out. Stop judging yourself. You know that’s not what Sensei would have wanted.” He pauses. “You know that’s not what he’d even want now.”

“I know-” Nagisa says.

“And you keep saying that, but you still don’t give yourself any credit. You just push and push yourself until you can’t anymore. In a world where superpowers really did exist, I don’t like to think you’d put yourself through literal mental and physical hell just to be a ‘better teacher’ and live up to a dead man who was already _ beyond proud _ of you. And in a world where superpowers just  _ don’t,  _ I hate to see you working you all-too-human self to the brink. If you keep this up, one of these days you won’t have anything left. And what will you be able to do for your students then?”

Nagisa sighs and sits up. “I wish I knew,” he admits. “Sometimes I feel like I’m constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place. I can’t stop. I know that I work myself hard. But I’d rather end up passing out from exhaustion than let anything happen to those kids. Everything I do… How hard I work… It’s my duty. I knew that when I signed up for this.”

“And I know you did. But don’t forget to take care of yourself, either. You already do so much for those little shits. I have  _ never _ seen a teacher act like you. Not even Korosensei. You invite students into your house! You give them a place to stay! You lay awake at night trying to think of how to fix their issues. You organized an entire sports festival single-handedly and keep a live octopus in their classroom. Those kids are having the time of their lives.”

“...And what if that’s not enough?”

“Oh my god, Nagisa. It’s enough. You are going  _ above and beyond.” _

“What if I’m not giving them the skills to prepare for afterwards? When they’re at home? When they don’t have me? Sometime in the future, when they graduate. What if they still need help then?”

“Then you’ll give it to them,” Karma says simply. “You always have, haven’t you?”

He sighs. “You give the world for these kids. And if that’s not enough for you, then you’re a moron. Sure… You might not be doing exactly what Korosensei did. But… Do you have to?" He frowns. "You know, he screwed up in some ways too.”

Nagisa grimaces and shakes his head. “I know. But even so… I just wish…

He stares down at his hands and searches for an answer.

_ ‘I just wish I felt like I was good enough.’ _

Karma huffs. “Okay. I see what’s happening. We’re going in circles.” He stands. “I actually hate it when you say those things about yourself. It makes me mad, man. But I see there’s nothing I can do here. Soooo…” He reaches for the bedside drawer and carefully pulls something out. Giving Nagisa an unimpressed look, he says “I think you need to take another look through this.” And places Korosensei’s self-help book on his lap.

Nagisa meets his eyes.

“You wanna know why? Because you hold yourself  _ so _ up to the caliber of Korosensei’s teaching. Those days were some of the best of your life. But as obsessed as you are with what he taught you, you’re awfully inclined to forget it. Maybe he can remind you what I can’t.” He turns on his heels and sends Nagisa one last glance. “I think you two need a moment. So give that a read over, okay?”

And with that, he’s gone. He walks out of the room, and gently closes the door as he goes.

Nagisa stares down at the book in his lap. And running his hand over his tie, he supposes he’s left with no choice.

Maybe there really _ is _ something he’d forgotten.

* * *

The more Makoto thinks about being human, the less human he feels.

It’s funny. Up until recently, he'd never really thought about where Korosensei came from. 

Like, yeah, he’d known that he definitely hadn’t been an alien, but otherwise, Korosensei’s past hadn’t _ mattered!  _ What mattered had been his time with the E-Class! 

At least… That’s what had felt important to Makoto. It’s what everyone talked about when they mentioned Korosensei. And it was most of what he’d remembered, too. So he guesses he’d just sort of conceptualized Korosensei as popping into existence on that ramshackle campus despite knowing that probably wasn’t the case.

Now he knows that  _ definitely  _ wasn’t the case.

If he tries - If he really focuses, he can sometimes make his face out. The man Korosensei was before. Staring into the mirror or passing by a window, hands in his pockets. He doesn’t look anything like Korosensei. Which is fair enough, considering neither does he, but it’s still not what he’d expected. If anything - the man looks cool, with those calm dark eyes and collected stride. Carefully kept black hair, and a long brown coat trailing behind him.

...He’s the sort of guy Makoto would like to grow up to look like.

Just like Korosensei, however, he’s worlds away from the rather mundane Makoto. Sure, he’s just a _ guy, _ but he’s got an aura of coolness to him. Less wide eyes. Less goofy posture. Less…

Well, Makoto stares into those dark empty eyes and figures there’s a lot less of everything.

Try as he may to discover the truth behind this man, though, there are still things Makoto can’t piece together. How did he become Korosensei? And what on earth had he done for a living beforehand?

He _ knows  _ he hadn’t been a teacher. Cool as that sounds, Makoto’s certain his year in the E-Class had been his only year in the educational field. That’s… Why it had meant so much to him. And so what had this guy done to end up where he had? There's no way he likes kids.

That much makes itself exceedingly clear. Every time Makoto sees the silver-haired boy, he finds himself more and more impatient with him. Twisting his arm and whispering curses in his face. 

They travel. A lot. Whatever Korosensei did must not have been stable. They don’t take plane, or even car. They sneak onto boats and hitch rides on trains, remaining under the radar at all times. They pay for hotels with cash, careful not to leave a paper trail. Or even better - They simply squat in abandoned apartments.

Despite how much of the world Korosensei sees, it never once seems bright. 

There’s a sense of bleakness to his life Makoto’s never felt before.

One morning, the boy comes in with a fistful of flowers. Colorful and vibrant. He holds them out with a hopeful grin, and says, “For you.”

Something about the color only makes Korosensei angry. He knocks them out of the boy’s hand, and says hobbies like that are no more than a waste of time.

The boy stares at the ground, eyes watery as he looks down at the flowers. Korosensei steps on them, and Makoto stares too.

That’s the first time he thinks  _ “Maybe I kinda sucked.” _

It’s funny, how little he cared for his ‘kid.’

...Okay. It’s not funny. It’s the exact opposite, actually. It’s just sad. But it’s ironic, at the very least. That Korosensei had nothing but apathy in his heart for this scared little boy, and yet it’s Makoto who finds himself dwelling on him as he sits outside of Nagisa’s bedroom door and worries about another ‘child’ of his.

...Just what had happened to make him a person who cares so much?

Karma and the rest had admitted it’s not usual for Nagisa to isolate himself like that unless something is really wrong. And it terrifies him. He can’t quite make it out behind the thick walls, but Makoto swears he hears a quiver in Nagisa’s voice on the other end of that doorway.

He hopes Karma will come out soon. Hopes Karma will reassure him everything’s okay. Hopes Karma will tell him that Nagisa’s fine, and that there’s nothing to worry about.

...Hopes Karma will tell him he’s not the reason Nagisa’s upset.

He knows it’s probably about what happened with Yoshito earlier. But even so, he catches Nagisa whisper the word “Korosensei” amidst his pain, and feels his heart shatter.

...How many people had he hurt?

No. He hadn’t hurt Nagisa, had he? Except… When he died. And when he screwed up helping him with his mom. 

Oh jeez… How many mistakes could he possibly have made?

He wants to remember. He knows it’ll just make him feel bad, but he feels obligated to. He wants to know who he really was: The good, the bad, and the ugly. After all… Guilty-feeling or not, he deserves to know about himself. And more importantly, he figures he can’t begin to make up for all the ways he messed up until he knows who he’s apologizing to and what for.

Try as he might, however, there’s a gap. He focuses as hard as he can, scrunching his forehead and gritting his teeth as he tries to put together how exactly someone could go from that guy to Korosensei. It’s not even just the shift in appearance or powers. It’s personality, too. When he enters the world of the human Korosensei, he feels like he becomes another person entirely.

Is it… Possible this had been a separate past life?

_ No.  _ He quickly shakes his head. Something just feels wrong about that notion. He  _ knows  _ this is the same guy. He just doesn’t know how. Not yet.

It’s another ten minutes before Karma exits Nagisa’s room. Looking exhausted, he carefully shuts the door behind him.

Makoto hops to his feet. Staring up at Karma hopefully, he asks “Is everything okay?”

Karma shrugs. “He’s just being hard on himself. The usual.”

Makoto reaches for the door handle. “Maybe I should talk to him,” he says.

Karma thinks that over for a long moment. “...Maybe you should,” he admits, reaching for Makoto’s hand. “But maybe he’ll also just make you feel bad. This really isn’t your job to deal with.”

Feeling indignance rise in his gut, and seeing Korosensei’s face clearly in his mind, Makoto’s half tempted to mutter ‘It actually sort of is.’

...He doesn’t. He catches the uncharacteristic weariness in Karma’s eyes, and decides that maybe there are some things even he can’t fix.

_ (Some things he doesn’t want to screw up any more than he already has.) _

He follows Karma down the hall. “At least let me know what he’s sad about,” he says. “Maybe I can talk to him about it tomorrow at school.”

Karma sighs. “It’s ridiculous. You’re gonna be mad when you hear it.”

“Come on. Just shoot.”

“He wishes he had powers like you did.”

Makoto blinks. “Huh? Why though?”

“Wish I knew. Something-something ‘I’m not doing enough for my class even though I’m already working myself to the bone for them.’”

Makoto frowns, mulling that over. Nagisa wants his powers?

As funny as it is to imagine Nagisa clipping through the walls at a little less than light speed, Makoto’s never really thought Nagisa ever would have needed that kind of stuff. Sure, maybe he can’t regrow his severed limbs, but he also doesn’t have a class actively trying to chop off said aforementioned limbs. Those aren’t exactly necessary in this situation.

To be honest, he’d already kinda thought Nagisa was doing way cooler than he ever did, even with powers. The hell sorta standard is he holding himself up to?

_ Is… Is he really comparing himself to him? No… No. Makoto doesn’t want to think about it _

Makoto can’t fault him entirely. Because, sure, yeah, he’s always sorta wanted Korosensei’s superpowers, too. How could he not? Those belonged to him! But the more he thinks about it, the more he comes to the conclusion that his powers had been ultimately sort of useless.

Sure, he’d had super speed and super healing. But he sure hadn’t had super people skills. After all, superpowered or not, he’d still failed a lot of people. Looking back on the ways he’d messed up bigtime on trying to help Nagisa fix things with his mom… Or with a hole in his heart giving him the sinking feeling he’d never made it up to his ‘son...’ Makoto decides there’s a lot of things even Korosensei couldn’t do.

In the weirdest way, that’s almost reassuring. Sometimes (Or… Well… A lot of the time) Makoto feels useless, too. Even if he’s sure he’ll always feel a little dwarfed by the unreachable figure that is Korosensei, it’s nice to think they were equally as capable of screwing the pooch.

“Well… I think he’s doing good enough,” Makoto says, sticking close to Karma. “And I don’t think those powers would help him much anyways.”

“That’s what I tried to tell him,” Karma says. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll actually believe it coming from you.”

Makoto nods. “I’ll tell him, then,” he says with a determined look. “Because… he’s the best teacher I’ve ever had.”

He sees a flash of a face in his mind. But as always, it’s gone before he can even wrap his mind around it. Even so, he feels a warmth in his gut.

Something tells him the best teachers he’s had have never been anything more than just ‘human.’

“Enough of that, though,” Karma says. “He needs his space. And it’s nothing you should really be worrying about. Wanna do something? I know your little friends aren’t here today so you’re probably all sorts of bored, but Karma’s still around, and he’s down for a game of Mario Kart or whatever if you want.”

Makoto meets his grin. “You’re on.”

“Who knows. If we’re lucky, maybe we can even coax Gakushuu into playing.”

Makoto follows after with a skip in his step. And settling down on the couch, Verse controller in hand, he returns to some kind of calm; Gets his mind off the silver-haired boy and allows himself to relax just this once.

When he ends up managing to lap Karma, he comes to the shocked realization that somehow that’s something even the elusive Korosensei hadn’t managed to do.

If… Nagisa’s able to do things Korosensei couldn’t and even do them well, maybe so can Makoto. And in more important ways than just Mario Kart shenanigans.

He’ll do what Korosensei couldn’t. He’ll fix things. He’ll give Nagisa a hand, and he’ll find the silver-haired boy. Wherever he is now… Whoever he’s become, Makoto will track him down. And finally, he’ll apologize to him.

He knows the boy might not be thrilled to hear it. Or that he may not even believe him, but Makoto’s ready to respect whatever response he receives. And for a moment, that even makes him feel better.

But remembering holding a blade to the boy’s throat… Remembering drawing that same blade through flesh, Makoto’s left to wonder.

Are there some things even an apology can’t fix?

* * *

Nagisa’s well-acquainted with Korosensei’s self-help book.

Being the last thing Korosensei had left him, Nagisa’s clung to it somewhat like a security blanket. Filled with all manner of jokes and advice, it had been all Nagisa had had left of Korosensei up until very recently…

He must have read through it a hundred times now. It seems when nothing else can comfort him, it’s there without fail. And even so, staring down at the worn book, he’s left to wonder if it can really help him now.

It’s not like there’s anything in it he hasn’t read before.

Sighing and running his hand over the cover, he flips open the book. He sincerely doubts there’s much it can do, but somehow he feels like he’ll be letting down Korosensei and Karma both if he doesn’t at least give it a shot.

The first page he opens to features a picture of Korosensei’s smiling face. Even worn with time, edges frayed and colors faded, it’s easy to make out the photo of him wrapping his tentacles around Karma and Itona with a goofy expression.

Karma’s got somewhat of a genuinely peeved look on his face, elbowing at Korosensei with a fierceness only the fifteen-year-old Karma could have had. Itona, on the other hand, has long since ceased struggling, sitting limp like a sack of potatoes or perhaps a particularly apathetic cat in Korosensei’s grasp.

_ “During your time as a teacher, you may notice certain students struggling to resist your outstretched tentacle. Do not fear, however! And never scorn said students. Perhaps they are just going through a bit of extra difficulty in their lives, and that means they need you more than ever. Don’t give up on them, for when you finally manage to get through to their hearts, you’ll find a student you’ll never forget.” _

He’s placed an octopus-shaped sticker on the page next to his words, alongside a “100%” stamp. Crafty, overdramatic asshole.

Issue is Nagisa already  _ knows _ all that. He  _ knows _ not to give up on his students. It’s  _ himself _ he’s worried about. And he’s not sure anything anyone, even Korosensei, could say could help with that.

After all, if he’d met them as kids today, he’s not sure  _ he'd  _ be able to make it through through to Karma and Itona like Korosensei had managed to.

He sends a sad glance towards the photo, before flipping to another page.

This time he finds a picture of Korosensei and Kayano. He’d visited her in the hospital after the incident, eight 24-packs of pudding in tow. It must be taken at the exact moment she noticed him, because her expression is completely taken aback.

Nagisa seems to vaguely recall this incident. Something-something immediately after a nurse had told Korosensei “I’m not sure this is a healthy choice for the patient” and “Sir, you need to leave immediately.”

“She’d been lit on fire, not had a heart attack! Let her have some pudding! Pretty please!?”

“SIR. YOU NEED TO GO.”

Another photo, lower on the page. Kayano’s covering her mouth with her arm now, unable to hide her giggle. Boxes of pudding spilled everywhere, Korosensei looks absolutely mortified.

_ “Unexpected things are bound to happen in your career as a teacher. Scary things, as well. (Not the moment depicted, for clarification, but I don’t have pictures of Kayano with her tentacles. :-( This will have to suffice.) And although at first these moments may make you doubt yourself or you may not know what to do, this is an important step in your journey. Being a teacher is just as much as about learning as it is about helping others learn. Answers cannot always come easily in life, and I am sure you’ll come out of it for the better having figured them out the hard way.” _

There’s a sticky note hastily slapped on underneath. _ “Even if sometimes that means you end up getting evicted from the hospital because a nurse chased you with a broom.”  _

Korosensei had doodled his own distraught face next to the sentence, somehow looking equally as mortified as the real thing.

For a moment, Nagisa smiles. And he laughs, too, running his hand along the photos. But quickly, even that fades.

Yeah, yeah… He gets it. The most important questions never have simple answers. But does he really have time to try and figure things out when his kids’ wellbeing could be on the line? He _ gets _ where Korosensei is coming from, he really does. But even so… It feels like Korosensei would have figured out what to do ages ago.

He wishes he could come to him for advice. Sensei always knew what to say. Sensei always knew what to do. But things are different now.  _ Fuck, man. _ He’s just a little kid. This is supposed to be his happy second chance. His stress-free reward. Nagisa can’t come to him looking for answers. It’s  _ his  _ turn to give Korosensei answers. But how is he supposed to do that if he hasn’t even gotten things figured out for himself?

...Just briefly, Nagisa wonders if it’s possible to still miss something that’s right there by your side.

When he catches his laugh fade into a cry, his heart sinks. Although he doesn’t even notice until he catches his tears landing on the pages. Hurriedly, he wipes at his eyes, not wanting to damage his treasure. And a sinking feeling in his chest, he admits to himself he’s been beating around the bush. He knows which of sensei's words he really needs to hear.

...Even if they make him cry every time.

As if he’s done it a thousand times, Nagisa carefully flips to a page near the back of the book. It’s well-worn and creased, with a dog-eared corner. A faded photo depicts Korosensei and he on the beach, Korosensei’s hand resting carefully on his shoulder. They’re watching the sunset as some of his classmates goof around in the ocean. Nagisa still remembers the way Maehara had screeched when he stepped on a crab soon after.

...The school vacation.

That, too, had been one of the most unsure times of his life.

Beyond ill classmates and revenge-minded army men, he’d met and faced down against more assassins than he’d ever even anticipated to meet in his entire lifetime At the end of the day, they’d made their retreat, betraying Takaoka, hopping into their little plane, and telling the kids they were sure they’d be seeing them again sometime in the future.

Nagisa had thought so, too.

It had been the first time he’d really wondered if that’s who he wanted to become.

He’d almost been certain. Decided that was all he was good at. That he was meant to walk life with a blade in his hand. But not with Korosensei. Not watching the sunset. His teachers’ face had seemed to say  _ 'You’re destined for so much more.' _

_ “I am sure over the course of your teacherhood, you will no doubt one day compare yourself to me,”  _ Korosensei carefully writes.  _ “Such things are inevitable both in teaching and in life. I know I compared myself to Yukimura-sensei up until the very end. Strived to follow the example of the one who had molded me. And while this is only natural, it is also where I must tell you: _

**_Do not!_ **

_ Do. Not. Compare yourself to me. For I know one day you will excel in ways that are all your own. You do not give yourself enough credit for being one of the most observant, kind hearted, and brave individuals I’ve ever had the honor of knowing. And I am beyond certain that not only will you be able to live up to my legacy, but that you will far transcend it.  _

_ Like the rocket you and Karma boarded to try and save my life, I trust the 28 of you to soar further than I ever could have. And I believe with all my heart that you will accomplish things I couldn’t have even thought of. More than anything, I wish I could be there to see it. Because I know you’ll make me proud. _

_ You will never be me. But I implore you to never resent that! For you don’t need to be. The world doesn’t need a second Korosensei. But what the world does need is the first Nagisa. And that’s beautiful in and of itself. _

_ I’m sure you’ll figure things out.” _

At the bottom of the page, he’d doodled a makeshift rocket ship. It’s soaring through poorly drawn moons and uneven stars.

Similarly uneven tears spill down Nagisa’s face.

He’s not sure how long he cries, whimpering softly as he holds the book to his chest. And he’s not sure how he feels, even as he slowly pries it away from him and returns the book to his drawer.

He rubs his eyes and runs his hand over his tie one final time. Then, standing, he reaches for his phone, and tells himself he knows what to do.

“Yoshito?” He says the moment he’s sent to voicemail. “I know you’re mad, but can you please call me back as soon as possible? I have a plan, and I’m here to help. I’m sorry if I wasn’t before.” He pauses. “Thanks again... Nagisa.”

Hand shaking, he lowers the phone. And hanging it up, he sends a wayside glance towards his bedside drawer, praying that Korosensei's is right.

...Praying that 'Nagisa' is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 19 time, ya'll!
> 
> This is crazy to say, but I'd say we're reaching about the halfway point of the fic. Maybe a little bit OVER that. I NEVER thought I'd get that far, and I'd like to sincerely thank you all for helping me to this point.
> 
> Haha sorry about another pretty heavy chapter. Though at this point I guess you should just expect those. Sometimes I feel like writing this fic is Russian Roulette because you're either gonna get Karma quoting The Incredibles, or Nagisa beating the everloving shit out of himself because a student of his had a massive panic attack.
> 
> I think I talked a little bit about last chapter being somewhat of a bridge from the themes of 'family,' and 'accountability.' So I suppose now we've fully entered the territory of 'accountability.' It's. A big thing in this fic, and it's fun to explore in different ways ranging anywhere from 'Haha! I messed up Once!' like Nagisa, to Makoto's "Oh god, I think I seriously emotionally abused this kid in a past life."
> 
> I REALLY enjoyed getting to write some of the self-help book. "You'll be the first Nagisa" is another one of those phrases I've envisioned since VERY early on in this project, and I'm happy to have gotten to write it, as tearjerking as it is.
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were The Weight of Living by Bastille, In The Bedroom Down The Hall from Dear Evan Hansen, Bird Song by Florence and The Machine, and Caving In by Kimya Dawson.
> 
> The next chapter should be up next week, so look forward to that! All I can say is that it's... Certainly another fun one.


	20. Truth of the Matter Time

It’s a week later when Makoto’s situation goes from bad to worse.

It’s the middle of the night and he’s still working on a way to find peace with himself over the whole unnamed boy thing when it happens. He’s spent the past week reflecting on it and refining his plan to apologize to him. It’s beginning to all come together, except for the first, main, and only issue in this scenario: That he has no idea where the boy is now. Is… he still alive? Or is he out there in a new life? Like him?

Makoto quickly shakes his head. No. He’s alive. He has to be. Makoto… Just doesn’t know what happened to him after he turned him in. That’s all. 

If… he had died, that would mean there's no guarantee he's even out there anymore, after all.

_ (Suddenly, Makoto feels horribly alone. And for one singular moment, he wonders if he’s the only person like himself in the entire world.) _

He doesn’t let himself dwell on that, however. He’s got more than enough on his mind already as is. Instead, he simply rolls over in his futon and attempts to drift off to sleep.

Like he seems to more and more lately, he finds himself immersed in Korosensei’s world.

The first thing he does is glance down at his hands. And sure enough, they’re human. The same delicate, precise, and graceful fingers he’s found himself well acquainted with as of late. 

It feels he’s entering the world of the happy Korosensei less and less. Each and every night he prays he won’t find himself in this particular room in his house of memories. But his words must fall on deaf ears, because here he is again.

The boy is sitting by his side, quivering gently with excitement. He stares up at Korosensei with wide eyes. He can’t be older than seven or eight here.

“Are you really going to show me?” he asks, almost breathless.

“Of course I’m going to show you,” Korosensei says, unphased. His voice is wholly impersonal and as smooth as butter. “What sort of apprentice of mine would you make if you never learned the art?”

_ ‘...The art?’  _ Makoto wonders.

Korosensei doesn’t answer Makoto’s question. He never does. Instead, he simply stands, and with that same cool composure, he reaches into his pocket.

He retrieves a blade. Perhaps the sharpest Makoto’s ever seen.

He runs his finger down the dull end of the knife. And smiling, he turns to the boy.

“Remember to watch me closely,” he says. Content with his observation, he then pockets the blade and begins to make his way towards a large and fanciful building. “And remember to look inconspicuous. That is the first rule of a truly effective assassination. To not only appear, but  _ become  _ a part of the scenery. As far as anyone around us is to be aware, we are simply an average father and son paying the Court of Cassation a little visit.”

The boy nods attentively. And Makoto swears he sees his eyes light up at the word ‘son.’

Korosensei doesn’t see a thing.

“As soon as we’re in the building,  _ be quiet.  _ No asking questions. Keep your distance, and watch what I do. I’m already risking a lot taking you in, so you better make this worth it for me.”

The boy nods intently, a determined pout forming on his face. “I’m gonna learn how to do _ everything _ you do! So don’t you worry!”

“I’m sure you will,” Korosensei says with a smile. “And remember, if you mess this up for me…” He pats his pocket and stares the boy down. “You’re next.”

There's a flash of pure terror in the boy's expression. But before Makoto can fully even process it, it's gone.

He's starting to get a horrible feeling about this.

“Of… Of course,” he says. “I’ll do my best. So… S-Show me how it’s done! Please, show me your talents, Mister Reaper!”

“Quiet down, will you?” Korosensei says. And with that, he enters the building.

Staring, fascinated, at the way the door jingles, the boy pauses, before skipping in after Korosensei.

Korosensei instructs for him to stick close for now. When they get closer to the target, he can start to trail behind by like fifteen feet.

The boy nods and gives Korosensei another determined look. Korosensei reaches for his hand and takes it, much to the boy’s surprise. Although any elatement he finds quickly fades as Korosensei begins to weave through crowds of people. Ah. So that’s simply a part of the act as well.

_ ‘The act to accomplish  _ **_what?’_ ** Makoto wonders.  _ ‘T… Target?’ _ Something tells him this isn’t the same sort of fun target that the students at the E-Class tackled.

The boy skips along. And Korosensei walks in that same rehearsed way. Anxiety rising in his gut, Makoto begins to realize he’s the only one here who’s not on board with this situation.

_ ‘I’d like to wake up now!’  _ he decides, heart thumping in his chest. But it’s far too late now. He’s lost in the recesses of his own mind.

Finally, Korosensei spots the face he must have been looking for. Down some hallway and amongst some group of well-dressed men. All it takes is a single glance, and Korosensei’s eyes are locked on the man. He doesn’t bother to lean down as he whispers to the boy. “Keep a distance. And remember the escape routes. If you’re not out there by the time I am, I’m leaving without you.”

“Of course,” the boy whispers, as if that’s the most logical thing in the world. And Korosensei does not sneak, but instead  _ saunters _ towards the well-dressed man.

No intent… Not a thought dares to pass. Even as he reaches to grab the blade, Korosensei’s heart and mind both find themselves completely empty. No malice. No plan. He's just a man on a stroll.

For one desperate moment, perhaps Makoto manages to convince himself that Korosensei has no ill-will as well.

He only processes what really happened when he sees a flash of red.

And in an instant, Korosensei is on his way. The men begin to panic, shouting and scrambling over each other, but Korosensei pays them no mind. Before Makoto can even blink, the knife has returned to his pocket. And he turns the corner, ducking out from their line of sight.

...They hadn’t even seen him coming. And as he speedwalks, weaving down back hallways and through empty rooms, their cries quickly fade.

He had become a part of the background in order to go undetected. And as punishment for not daring to pick up on it, they’d lost one of their own. Then, before they could even fully process what happened to them, they’d already become the background noise in  _ his _ life.

Korosensei sends an uninterested glance down towards his shirt. But noting he’d managed to avoid getting any blood on it, he gives a satisfied smile and continues on his way.

Before there’s even an announcement of the emergency situation, he’s out a window and gone.

He struts down the unfamiliar streets. And although Makoto has a feeling he knows them just as little as he does, he never once slows down. Even in a city that is more or less a stranger to him, he’s already calculated his each and every move like his life depends on it.

Remembering the blade in Korosensei’s pocket, and the burn of bright spotlights, Makoto has a sinking feeling it _ does. _

It’s a few minutes before the boy manages to catch up with Korosensei. He and Makoto both think he’s just about managed to ditch him when he waddles up behind them. Panting, he gives Korosensei a grin. And not daring to point out how Korosensei had nearly left him behind, he shouts.  _ “That was awesome!” _

He reaches out to take Korosensei’s hand, but quickly hesitates. Pulling his hand back, he instead stares up at the man with a starstruck look in his eyes. “You just... Like!  _ Woosh!  _ And he… He!” He pauses. “I mean- Just like dad! You’re so good at this!”

_...Makoto thinks he’s going to be sick. _

Korosensei shrugs. “Lower your voice, will you?” he says. He doesn’t bother to slow down to keep up with the panting boy. “It was nothing. All a part of the job.” And he must mean _ that  _ at the very least. Because Makoto hears no pride in his voice. Feels no pride in his chest. He doesn’t even  _ enjoy  _ what he does. It has simply become another part of the routine in a truly sickening life.

...There’s nothing inside of this man.

More than anything, Makoto wants to cry. He wants to scream into the sky and ask why this is happening to him. But he can’t. Not trapped in this man’s psyche. Korosensei wouldn’t cry. Not ever.

“A certain colleague of mine failed to take out another target a town over. We can still make it by the end of the day if you’d like to see another successful assassination.” He poses it as an offer, but something tells Makoto he’s going to go with  _ or without  _ the boy.

The boy doesn’t even need a moment to think it over. He pumps his little hands in the air with a passion. “I’d love that! We gotta take out more of the bad men!”

Korosensei gives him a wry smile at the insinuation. And knowing that there _ is _ no such thing as a good man in the first place, he gives him a loveless pat on the head. In the same way you would to an animal you only keep around because it's somewhat amusing.

The boy doesn’t bother to ask what this man or the next had done to deserve their fate. Instead, he gleefully trails after Korosensei. There's an ecstatic look on his face and a gleeful skip to his step. 

...Because... Korosensei's going to protect him! Supposed to tell him the truth! He believes that unconditionally. 

Makoto knows that for certain when he hears what the boy says next.

“Hey, Reaper?”

“Mmm?” Korosensei replies, eyes still scanning the city.

“...When I grow up, I wanna be _ just like you.” _

The moment Makoto awakes, he weeps.

* * *

It’s obvious something is bothering Makoto.

Nagisa likes to think he’s intuitive with his students’ emotions. And perhaps he’s wrong about that seeing as how he’d managed to let Yoshito slip through the cracks. But he’s _ trying.  _ And Makoto is somewhat of an open book. So when he walks into class one morning looking like he’s seen a ghost, Nagisa is a little more than concerned.

Of course, he doesn’t wanna get on his ass either. If he’s just having a bad day, he’s just having a bad day. Nagisa doesn’t want to force anything out of him. And so when Makoto responds to his ‘Are you feeling okay, buddy?’ with a ‘Yeah. I’m just tired.’ he decides to drop it for now.

What matters is that Makoto knows he’s there for him. And more than anything he wants to be certain it’s  _ Makoto  _ of all people that already knows that.

And so, when he comes into school the next day, wearing an equally exhausted expression, Nagisa gives him an extra-wide smile and a reminder that he can always talk to him.

“...Yeah. I know.” Makoto says, returning him a tired smile.

To be honest, this is the worst time for this. Nagisa’s attention is divided enough as is. His class is all sorts of stressed over the results of second-trimester midterms, and that’s not even getting started on the Yoshito incident. 

Nagisa's since offered to start walking him to school. And although at first Yoshito had been more than a little skeptical, his tune quickly shifted the moment Nagisa’s throat-poke technique drove the bullies off.

He hasn't dared to voice his skepticisms after that.

“You’re actually pretty cool,” he admitted a few days ago

“...I try my best,” Nagisa had replied.

And even so, he can’t quite shake the ‘favoritism’ comment.

He… Doesn’t play favorites,  _ does he? _

Feeling his worry for Makoto grow and grow, he’s left to wonder.

But the result of favoritism or not, Nagisa draws the line when he notices Makoto feeling this way for over a week. And his worries go from worries to outright concern when Makoto hands over his rubber blade one PE period.

“I… Think I want to sit out,” he admits, all enthusiasm gone from his tone. “This isn’t-” He pauses, shaking his head. “I don’t think I want to do this anymore.”

He looks so,  _ so  _ tired.

At a complete loss for words, all Nagisa can do is give him permission to sit out.

Fumiko and Kiyoshi try their best to have fun, but Nagisa catches the way they nervously glance towards their best friend hanging on the sidelines.

He pulls them aside and asks them if they have any idea what’s going on. Fumiko gives a shrug, saying she’s worried. And Kiyoshi waits for Nagisa to crouch down beside his desk, before whispering that he thinks it has something to do with Korosensei.

“He. Uh… Asked me if I knew anything about what Korosensei did before he was a teacher. If my parents told me anything.” He pauses, lowering his voice. “...Korosensei… Hurt people, right?”

Nagisa sighs. “It’s… Complicated,” he murmurs. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course. He seemed really stressed,” Kiyoshisays. “Please make sure he’ll be okay, Shiota-sensei.”

“...I’ll do my best.”

That afternoon he pulls Makoto aside as well. It’s a Wednesday, so Fumiko doesn’t have tutoring. And that means it’s just the two of them. Nagisa decides it's now or never. And that if he doesn’t at least try to get to the bottom of what’s bothering the insanely stubborn Makoto, he won’t be able to sleep at all tonight.

Makoto’s packing up his things to get headed to Nagisa’s house when Nagisa taps him on the shoulder. Makoto shoots him a confused look.

“Hey. Mind giving me a minute before we head out?” Nagisa asks. “I think there’s something we should talk about.”

Nagisa almost swears he catches a  _ bitter  _ look in Makoto's eyes, but in an instant, he’s back to his usual happy self.

“What is it?” he asks with a grin.

_...His usual happy facade. _

Nagisa won’t allow it. Not today, not ever. Perhaps he failed to spot what hid behind that unfaltering grin all those years ago, but never again.

“I think you know.”

* * *

It feels like forever since Makoto has been in this situation.  _ Forced _ to talk to Nagisa. _ Forced  _ to talk about his feelings. And  _ he fucking hates it.  _

So what if he’s a killer? So what if he’s just as bad as his dad and Nagisa’s mom and the rest of them? So  _ what _ if he hates himself for it?

He put himself into this situation, right? By... Believing that being Korosensei made him something _ good. _ By believing that anything having to do with Makoto Himura could be good in the first place.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, putting back on his practiced smile. It’s not _ fake,  _ is it? Not if he genuinely redirects himself to happy thoughts. Not if he’s just trying to protect Nagisa. Not if he just doesn’t want Nagisa to know.

...Does that make him a liar, anyways? Hiding it? What he'd done? Does it even matter? What if... What if Nagisa already knows? 

The very thought sends panic shooting up his spine.

“Please don’t lie to me,” Nagisa says. “I promised to be there for you, remember?”

_ “I know,”  _ Makoto huffs. And he means it. More than anything. He made that  _ same  _ promise all those years ago. He can’t put this on his student! On one of the only pieces left of his former life! On an already troubled man and on his _ idol. _

...What if it makes Nagisa hate him?

It seems impossible to fathom. Nagisa looks up to him so,  _ so  _ much. And even so… It’s already managed to make Makoto lose faith in himself, hasn’t it? 

The more he dreams of ‘The Reaper...’ His cruel endeavors and his starry-eyed apprentice, the less he finds himself able to enjoy reflecting on his time as Korosensei. He’s instead left wondering what he did to deserve such wonderful times when he was such an awful man.

In certain memories… Staring down at his tentacles, or up at the shattered moon, he wonders if Korosensei wondered the same.

“But it’s nothing. I swear,” he says. “I’d let you know if something was bothering me. So let’s just get going, okay?” He picks up his books and marches towards the door.

He doesn’t want to think about it. Not in front of Nagisa. But trying to hide it or not, he feels Nagisa’s firm gaze on the back of his neck.

“No,” Nagisa says. “I know that’s not true, Makoto.”

“It is.”

“I don’t want to force you Makoto, but it’s clear you’re losing sleep. I’m worried about you.”

...That’s the last thing Makoto wants to hear.

“I don’t want you to be.”

“I know.”

“Please just drop it.”

“I can’t,” Nagisa says, standing up. He approaches the doorway and places a hand on Makoto’s shoulder. “...You know you mean a lot to me. You’re my student. You’re my  _ sensei.  _ If anything happened to you because I didn’t step in, I’d never forgive myself.”

Makoto wants that even less.

He reaches out towards the doorknob.

Nagisa stops his hand midway.

“...Please don’t hide yourself away from me,” he says. “Not  _ you _ of all people.” His voice is trembling.

Makoto’s hand lowers to his side. “...You wouldn’t get it,” he says.

“You don’t know that.”

“...You can’t fix it.”

“You don’t know that, either,” Nagisa says. “I helped you out with your home situation, didn’t I?”

Makoto bites his lip.

“Let me help you with this, too.”

He sounds so,  _ so  _ desperate.

What is he so scared of losing? Why is it Makoto is worth this effort? He  _ can’t  _ respect him. Not that much. He won’t. Not once he knows the truth.

“...You’ll hate me.”

Nagisa squeezes his shoulder. “Makoto, I could never,” he says. “As your teacher, of course... I can’t let you get away with just anything. It’s my job to put you on the right track. But even then… You could do _ anything,  _ and I’d never  _ hate  _ you. I’d just remind you of where you belong. So let me know what’s going on.”

...Where he belongs is in the dirt.

He’s scared. Scared of Nagisa’s reaction and scared of himself. But what can he do? He can’t just run away.

“...Promise.”

“What?”

“Promise me you won’t hate me,” Makoto says, his voice wavering. It takes all his effort to blink back tears.

He can’t lose this. The people he has left. He’s lost amongst his family, and he’s lost his apprentice. The idea of having to let go of another person… Scaring them away with the truth of who he is… He simply can’t bear it.

He can’t lose them. Not Kiyoshi. Not Fumiko. Not Kayano, Karma or Gakushuu. And, please,  _ not Nagisa. _

“I promise,” Nagisa says. “On my life.”

Makoto takes a deep breath and tries his best to still his nerves. Then, taking Nagisa’s hand, he allows himself to be led back over to his desk. He carefully sits down and stares at his hands, still staunchly refusing to look at up Nagisa even as he takes a seat across from him.

“Alright,” Nagisa says in a voice all too friendly. “You can let me know. So what’s on your mind?”

“I…” Makoto pauses. And then gathering all his bravery, he brings himself to meet Nagisa’s eyes and says “I want to know what sort of person was Korosensei really like.”

* * *

Now of all the confessions Nagisa had expected, it wasn’t that one.

He’d expected something about Makoto’s homelife again, to be completely truthful. Or perhaps the confession that he’d started stealing again. Not an inquiry about the past life that had seemed to have brought them both so much peace.

Even so, when Makoto looks up at him with desperate, watery eyes, Nagisa knows this is just as important to him as any of those other topics could have been.

_ ‘What was Korosensei like?’  _ It’s a loaded question. He was a complicated man with a complicated story. But looking inside himself, Nagisa knows Korosensei had never been anything other than a complete hero to him.

“Korosensei was… Very possibly the kindest person I’ve ever known,” he says. “He was kind, and thoughtful, and a perfectionist to a fault. Goofy, and dramatic, and loveable. He always put others before himself. And he always knew what to do. He was loving, and brave, and... he would have done anything for us.” He stares down at Makoto.  _ “You  _ would have done anything for us. There’s a reason why I still look up to you.”

Makoto doesn’t crack a smile. He merely gives Nagisa a serious look. “That’s nice, but… I already know all about that Korosensei,” he says. “The Korosensei everyone seems to believe in. But what I want to know is the truth.”

“...The truth?”

“What was Korosensei really like? When he wasn’t pretending?”

...Nagisa’s silent.

Makoto’s averts his gaze. Fiddling with his hands, he softly asks “...He wasn’t really like that, was he? The person you keep saying he was.” … “The person you keep saying  _ I _ was.” He rubs at his eyes. “...He was… A bad, bad man.”

Nagisa feels his heart stop in his chest.

“...You remembered," he says quietly. "Didn’t you?”

That’s when Makoto’s eyes widen.

* * *

_ He knew!? _

How long!? How at all!? _ Why!?  _ Why would Korosensei dare share that with the people he wanted to care about him!?

...If… He actually cared about their perception of them at all.

He’s starting to feel like he’s losing sight of Korosensei. Who he is and what he wanted. Right now, all he knows is what  _ Makoto  _ wants. And Makoto cares about Nagisa’s opinion of him more than anything. He supposes he’s relieved that means Nagisa doesn’t hate him if he has the audacity to talk about him so fondly in spite of those things, but even then … This stings.

“...You knew?” he asks, voice shaky. He faintly realizes he didn’t answer Nagisa’s question, but he doesn’t particularly care.  _ “...Why didn’t you tell me!?” _

Nagisa sighs. “...I was scared of what would happen. I thought… Maybe if I didn’t, you’d never need to remember those things. I thought I could protect you.”

“S… So you left me to remember those things on my own!?” Makoto cries, tears welling in his eyes. “T… Those were  _ my  _ memories! That was  _ my _ life! People died, Nagisa! I deserved to know! How could you just let me blindly believe I was a hero when I’d done those things!?”

Nagisa blinks. “I… Well- I just-” he sputters. 

“You what!?  _ Wanted me to believe lies about myself!?” _

Nagisa stands. “Woah, woah!” he says, pushing out his chair. “I never lied to you. Everything I told you about Korosensei was the truth-”

“You said I was a good guy! A hero! How could you honestly mean that when I’d hurt so many people!?”

“Makoto-”

“I was a monster, Nagisa! What kind of good guy kills people!? Hurts kids!?”

Makoto stands, too. But he thinks he’s going to collapse any minute. His heart is pounding in his ears and his head is spinning. What’s  _ wrong  _ with him!?  _ Why is he even here!? _

“You always tried your best to fix things-”

“You can’t fix things! Not things like that!” Makoto shouts. “Everyone! They were so scared of me!” Finally, the tears spill. “How could I do that!? How could I think that was acceptable!?”

“It’s the way you grew up-”

“No! That’s no excuse!  _ No-one _ should grow up like that!” Makoto argues. “If… If you think that’s acceptable... To treat people that way... To be treated that way... Maybe you really _ should  _ hate me, Nagisa.”

At a complete loss for words, Nagisa simply stares at him with his own watery eyes.

* * *

Nagisa’s head is spinning.

He hadn’t expected that to escalate so fast. Not even slightly. But looking at the quivering, crying, and angry Makoto, he comes to the realization that he must have been bottling these feelings in for a long time. No wonder he exploded.

His fist is balled and shaking. He meets Nagisa’s eyes, as if demanding answers. And Nagisa has to take a moment to think this over

...Because it’s clear his current approach isn’t working.

“Sit down,” he says. “I can… Explain everything. But I can’t do it while you’re upset. I’m… sorry I hid things from you. And… I’m sorry you remembered what you did. But you don’t need to face this alone. So please… don’t say those things about yourself. You need to know that hurts me, too.”

“...I deserve it.”

“No. You don’t. I mean it when I say you’ve never been anything but good to me,” Nagisa reaffirms. “I know you might not believe it… But… How would you feel if I said those things about myself?”

Makoto’s quiet a long moment. He doesn’t answer, but finally, he sits. And lip quivering, he says. “Fine. I want to know the truth.”

Nagisa sits across from him. Gently scooting in his chair, he speaks up in a soft voice. “...I’ll admit. Everything you’ve remembered is true. About Korosensei hurting people.”

“About me killing people.”

“About… you killing people,” he confirms.

And Makoto looks like he’s been punched in the gut.

* * *

Makoto almost doesn’t want to hear this. But it’s too late to turn back now. These are his memories. He deserves to know. And this is his weight to carry. The story of the people he hurt.

“Korosensei… Grew up in a place very far away from here,” Nagisa says. “A place where he couldn’t feel safe. He was born in the midst of a horrible war. And even as a kid younger than you, he was surrounded by acts of violence. Terrorism… Death… Assassination. He never knew his parents, so he had to learn to fend for himself quickly. In a world where violence was all around him, the only way he could do that was commit atrocities himself.”

Makoto’s brow furrows. It’s depressing, the way Nagisa words it. Imagining growing up in a world like that… Knowing deep down what it’s  _ like  _ to grow up in a world like that… In any other situation, he’d feel bad for Korosensei. If he were anyone else. But he can’t forgive himself for that. The rest of the world, maybe, but not _ him. _

“...And… This was before he was an octopus, right?” Makoto asks. “He… wasn’t always an octopus, was he?”

“No,” Nagisa confirms. “Korosensei was a human.”

Makoto’s lip quivers. Somehow the idea of a monster doing monstrous things seems easier to stomach. But… a real person?  _ He’s _ just a person. Does that mean he can make the same mistakes?

_ Does that mean, as Korosensei, he’s already destined to? _

“...Back then, went by The Reaper. He… didn’t have a real name. As he got better and better at killing in self-defense, he realized he could make a living off of the technique. Off of assassination. And so he did. It was messed up, yes. But it was also all he’d ever known. How could he think ill of it when the world around him had normalized it?”

The human heart inside of him! That had to have said something!  _ It had to have! _

Makoto knows it hadn’t. Knows he hadn’t felt bad. But he wants to believe that means there’s something broken in him. Not that someone - anyone - can just grow up with views that skewed.

“M… Mmm…” he quietly agrees.

“As his skills grew, The Reaper began to make a name for himself as one of the most terrifying assassins of all time. Despite his young age, he seemed to understand death like no-one else. Because… he was surrounded by it. And even as he gathered the resources to escape his wartorn world, he continued to carry a cloud of death with him everywhere he went. He committed assassination all across the globe. Struck fear into the hearts of many. And killed thousands.”

_ ‘Thousands.’  _ The word lingers in Makoto’s mind. Not dozens. Not hundreds. Thousands. A thousand lives, just like his, cut short.

He takes a shaky gulp and tries his best to blink back tears.

“And so… you’re right, Makoto. I’m sorry I wasn’t completely honest with you, but I won’t sugarcoat it now. You deserve to know, especially if it’s bothering you. There was a time when Korosensei killed. There was a time when Korosensei was an atrocious person. And there was a time when he hurt people beyond repair.”

Makoto can’t hold back the heartache one minute longer. Slamming his palms on the desk, he stares up at Nagisa with tears trailing down his cheeks.

“Then  _ how!? _ How could you say those things to me!? To the class!? To the  _ world!?  _ About Korosensei being a good person! _ How can you talk about such a cruel man that way!?” _ he sobs.

“Because he  _ became _ a good person,” Nagisa states. “Korosensei did… horrible, horrible things. But all the same, Korosensei saved my life.”

Makoto stares.

“He saved all of our lives,” Nagisa said. “Some in a more literal sense than others, but… he gave us all a future. He taught us how to be proud of ourselves, and he taught us how to try our hardest. I know 28 lives will never mean anything in the scope of thousands, but… that’s never once made what he did for us worth anything less to me.”

“Korosensei didn’t become a teacher for fun. Korosensei wanted to escape his past. And Korosensei wanted to mend some of the harm he’d done. He could never,  _ ever  _ bring those people back, but for the first time in his life, Korosensei realized he could put good into the world. And… gifted that realization… he wanted to do as much as he possibly could with the time he had left.”

“The Reaper wasn’t kind. And the Reaper wasn’t thoughtful, goofy, or dramatic. He never once put anyone before himself and he had no idea what he wanted to do. He never once loved another person and was the furthest thing from brave…”

…

“But Korosensei wanted to become those things. And so he  _ did. _ One fateful evening, Korosensei looked up at the moon in the night sky and decided  _ ‘never again.’ _ He decided  _ exactly  _ who he wanted to become, and with all the goodness that had been hiding in his heart up until that very moment, he put the final year of his life into becoming that person. Korosensei  _ was _ good. And he was good because he  _ wanted  _ to be. That will _ never _ not be inspirational to me, Makoto. And I’d take that over someone born a hero any day.”

The tears only begin to pour harder. Through shaky breaths, Makoto knows every word Nagisa speaks is true. And yet, it hurts. It hurts more than anything he thinks he’s ever experienced before.

“How do you know?” he murmurs through sobs. “How do you know he was  _ really _ that person? That it wasn't an act? That he actually felt bad?  _ That he actually loved you guys?” _

...That he was capable of loving at all.

“...How do I know he loved us?” Nagisa muses. He frowns, for a moment. And then, a contemplative look on his face, he reaches out to place his hand over Makoto’s heart. “Because Korosensei dedicated his last year to us. Because Korosensei was willing to die for us. And because... you love us, don’t you?”

Breaths rising and falling, Makoto focuses on the sensation of Nagisa’s palm pressed up against his chest.

The relief that had surged through him when Karma first joked with him like nothing had changed between the two of them at all... The abject horror he’d felt when Kayano had gotten the chance to nickname him before he’d gotten to nickname her... Tossing baseballs around in the backyard with Sugino, and how he’d shot like a bullet towards Kurahashi to wrap her in a hug the moment he saw her on campus.

...Being here with the one and only Nagisa.

“Yeah,” he finally says. “...More than anything.”

Korosensei can be almost anything. He can be bad and he can be evil and he can be cruel. Nothing about him seems certain anymore. But Nagisa’s right. If one thing about him is definite, it’s that Korosensei loved his students with his whole heart. Because he can still feel it now. That love in his watery eyes, in the rise and fall of his chest, and in the slow thumping of his heartbeat. Resonating through every inch of his being. 

His pride and joy.

Which only leaves one thing for Makoto to wonder.

...Maybe Korosensei  _ had  _ felt bad. Even if he hadn’t known it as The Reaper. Staring across the desk at Nagisa, knowing Korosensei had managed to pass that same unending love for his class onto him... He can't help but shake the feeling that perhaps the guilt in his chest is Korosensei's to share as well.

* * *

It breaks Nagisa’s heart to see Makoto this way.

Heartbroken, self-loathing and depressed over the man who Nagisa respected more than anything. He hadn’t been lying, earlier. He truly believes Korosensei had saved his life. And so, to watch him tear Makoto apart from the inside is unimaginable. It makes Nagisa feel helpless. And with a dry taste in his mouth, it makes him wonder if Korosensei had felt the same way.

...Cruel… Irredeemable… Like a monster.

Looking into Makoto’s tear filled, distraught eyes, he can’t find a thing to refute it.

_ Of course Korosensei had felt that way. How could he  _ **_not!?_ **

Nagisa’s spent the past fifteen years drowning in the guilt of ending one life. How had Korosensei been expected to -  _ How should a thirteen-year-old boy  _ **_be_ ** expected to shoulder the weight of ending thousands?

Slowly, he slides his palm from Makoto’s chest up to his shoulder. And gripping him as tightly - as reassuringly as he can possibly muster, he says. “Then you’re good. If you loved us, you’re good.  _ You’re good,  _ Makoto. I know there are things that must haunt you, but please never doubt the sincerity of what you did for us. We’d never have wanted you to feel this way.” 

“I know,” Makoto says in a tiny voice. “I know. But knowing something and believing in something… Those are two different things, aren’t they?”

Nagisa’s quiet.

“...Yeah. I think so,” he finally admits.

Makoto stares at his desk again. And blinking slowly, he says “...I used to feel like I was totally in synch with Korosensei. Like… We agreed on everything. Like I’d really found some buried part of myself. But the more I learn about him… The more I learn about his past, the less I feel like I understand him. Even when I’m inside his head, I don’t know who I’m supposed to be.”

“I…” Nagisa pauses, taking a moment to mull over his words. “...Don’t think Korosensei necessarily knew who he was supposed to be most of the time, either. I don’t think Korosensei knew who he'd been as the Reaper, or who he was after-- Or what he really wanted." ... "And if I’m being completely truthful, I don’t think The Reaper did, either.”

“No,” Makoto says, wiping at his cheeks. “Maybe that’s why he ended up that way.”

Slowly, Nagisa removes his hand from Makoto’s shoulder.

“...Nagisa? Can I ask you a question?” 

“Anything.”

“...Was assassination the only thing I was good at?”

“Of course not,” Nagisa quickly interjects, to which Makoto shakes his head.

“Let me finish,” he says. “Please.”

Nagisa stops in his tracks. “Of course. Sorry.”

“...Even once you say I turned over a new leaf, it seems like something I never let go of. The… Assassination Classroom. I know in some ways it happened because people like Karasuma needed you to kill me, but at the same time, I wonder… was I doing something that was bad for you? Teaching you to  _ kill? _ That’s not a teacher’s job, is it?”

_ Oh, Makoto… _

Nagisa places his hand on the desk, covering Makoto’s. “...You have the wrong idea,” he says. “You didn’t teach us to  _ kill, _ Makoto. Never even once. You taught us how to protect ourselves… You taught us how to 'assassinate…' And you taught us how to end your life. But do you want to know the  _ real  _ most important thing you taught us?”

Makoto nods slowly. And in a wavering voice he says “...Yeah. I do.”

“You taught us the value of life. Why killing was such a powerful thing, and why we couldn’t use our strengths for evil. Everything you put us through… in teaching us to love you, you taught us that death was something that should never be taken lightly... You taught us that behind every ‘monster’ could be hiding a friend. You told us you were teaching us to kill, but do you want to know what you really taught us, Makoto?”

“...What?”

“To live and let live.”

Makoto shuts his eyes tight and sniffles as he fights back another round of tears. And then, grabbing at Nagisa’s hand, he says “I think I get it.”

“You wanna know something, Makoto? I actually briefly considered becoming an assassin.”

Makoto’s eyes shoot open. “You  _ what!?” _

“Yeah. You heard me right,” Nagisa says. “I wanted my whole life to feel like what I felt in the Assassination Classroom. But when I told you what I wanted to become, you helped me realize you envisioned a much brighter future for me. Brighter than anything you’d ever envisioned for yourself. You helped me learn I didn’t want to _ kill. _ You helped me learn I wanted to _ nurture _ \- to  _ teach.  _ You saved me from a dangerous future. And there’s one important thing I learned from that experience.”

“...What was it?”

“What it was like to be in the Reaper’s shoes. In your class, I received the first praise I'd ever gotten in my life. I was finally told I was _ good  _ at something. And that something was assassination. I thought it was the only thing I could ever do, because it was the only thing I felt _ capable _ of doing.” He squeezes Makoto’s hand. “You were never ‘only good’ at assassination, Makoto. That’s just what you believed of yourself. That’s why you used the familiarity of it as a safety crutch, even when it wasn’t the intent behind your lessons.”

...That’s why Nagisa still continues the blood-soaked tradition in his classroom today, despite its evil roots. Because Korosensei himself was never evil. And because regardless of what assassination had put them through, assassination was also ‘home.’

Makoto wipes at his eyes, and finally steadying his breaths, he nods firmly. “I think I get it.” 

Nagisa smiles. “Good.” And drawing his hand back, he says, “And so you want to know what Korosensei was really like, Makoto? My complete and honest opinion? No more lies?”

Makoto nods again. “I’d like that.”

“Korosensei was the best person I knew. Korosensei made _ endless  _ mistakes throughout his life, but everyone does. The important distinction is that Korosensei was willing to try and make up for his mistakes. And he  _ did.  _ He succeeded. Despite being flawed - Despite being human - Korosensei was  _ always _ kind. And not as some inherent part of his nature. Not because of who he was born as. As a deliberate decision. He reminds me of who I want to be every day. He was the best teacher a boy could have asked for.”

Makoto looks ready to cry again. But this time, Nagisa’d like to think it’s for a different reason.

“...I’m glad I could become that kind of person to you,” he says. And then, he stands. “...Nagisa, can you tell me everything in the future? Not just about who Korosensei was before or who he killed. Things like… His apprentice, too. Or why he decided to become a better person like he did?”

“Of course,” Nagisa stands. “...Why don’t you hear me out: In a few weeks, I was planning on running you guys through a unit on what happened to the moon. I wasn’t sure how much I should tell you about, but how about I give you the whole story? No half-truths, nothing left out. The real story of Korosensei.”

He’s vaguely aware his spouses won’t be happy with this decision, but for once he’s willing to stand by it. Makoto’s made it clear he’s going to remember the bad aspects of his life with or without Nagisa’s influence. Nagisa wants to be there to hold his hand through that.

“...I’d love that.” Makoto says. “I wanna know everything.”

“Then it’s a plan. I’ll teach you who you really were.” And standing, too, he says. “I hope you’ll realize that’s a person even better than you’d ever have thought before.”

Makoto wipes at his eyes once more. But giving Nagisa a smile, he nods. “...Yeah. It's a plan.” He makes his way towards the door. “I think I’m just gonna go home,” he admits. “It’s been a long day. Thank you for helping me, Nagisa.”

“No worries,” Nagisa says. “It’s all in the job description.”

**_'You_ ** _ taught me that.' _

As Makoto reaches for the doorknob, however, he pauses. “Wait. One more thing,” he says.

“What is it?”

“...Earlier, you said Korosensei was the best teacher a boy could have asked for, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nagisa says. “He was.”

“No,” Makoto says. “That’s not true.”

Nagisa bites his lip. “...Makoto. Don’t degrade yourself like th-”

“You are.”

“...What?”

_ “You’re _ the best teacher a boy could ask for. Not Korosensei.” He pauses, shooting Nagisa a tired, but sincere smile. “Even if he makes a pretty apt second place.”

Nagisa stares. “Oh. I…” He blinks slowly, running his hand over his tie. “...Thank you, Makoto. That means a lot.”

“No prob,” Makoto says. “I thought you deserved to know that.”

And without another word, he turns the doorknob and makes his exit.

The moment he’s gone, Nagisa can’t fight it one more second. Cradling his tie in his hands, he stares down at the crescent moon, torn as it is, and bursts into tears.

_ Because that’s all he’s ever wanted to hear. _

* * *

The walk home is weird for Makoto.

He comes to the faint realization in the back of his mind that he hadn’t asked Nagisa about everything he’d meant to. He’d been planning to confront him and ask what had happened to his apprentice, but he supposes in the heat of the moment he’d forgotten entirely.

_ ‘It’s okay,’  _ he tells himself.  _ ‘Nagisa’s going to tell you everything soon. Even that.’ _

He meets the boy’s gaze in his mind, and he shudders.

...He can only hope the story has a happy ending.

He knows deep down it doesn’t. Maybe that’s part of why he hadn’t asked Nagisa. He hadn’t been ready. Not yet. But even so, it’s nice to hope.

_ ‘Just for now,’  _ the boy reminds him.

_ ‘That’s okay,’  _ Makoto whispers under his breath.

His conversation with Nagisa had already been plenty painful. Having it confirmed he’d done horrible things… And being told he deserved the chance to be happy anyways... It’s a burning hot coal in his soul. And to be truthful, he’s not sure which of Nagisas’ words had stung more: The ones confirming his worst fears, or the ones reassuring him despite it all.

He knows worse things are likely to come. This is just the start of Korosensei’s story. And this is just the beginning of the truths behind his life. The lives he’d ended… How he’d become what he had… The untimely ending of his life, and the fate of his apprentice all lurk unanswered in the back of Makoto’s mind. And something deep inside of himself tells them  _ none  _ of them are stories with happy endings.

_ ‘That’s okay, too.’ _

Because at least he finally fucking  _ has  _ answers. At least he finally isn’t facing this alone. Nagisa’s by his side. And Nagisa will  _ always _ support him, regardless of what he’d done.

_ ‘That’s what a teacher does.’ _

Makoto’s still anxious. And Makoto’s still scared. But for the first time in a long time, he finally feels at peace

He finally knows he can still put good into the world. And that even when he confronts those horrible answers, he’ll be able to face them with bravery.

Because that’s the person his teacher believes he can be. And if he’s being optimistic... The person his teacher has already seen him become once before.

He’s ready to face the things he’d done and the things he’d been through. He’s even ready to face the boy he’d failed.

In his mind, he meets the boy’s angry gaze. And he doesn’t shy back. Not this time.

Instead, he simply reaches a hand out and says “I’ll find a way to make things right soon.”

* * *

The moment Nagisa gets home, he calls a family meeting.

“Where’s Makoto?” Karma asks when he sees him walk in the door unaccompanied.

“Is he okay?” Kayano adds on.

“Did something happen?” Gakushuu sits on the couch, inquisitively raising an eyebrow and shooting Nagisa a worried glance.

“That’s… What we need to talk about.”

Every face in the room pales. They’ve heard him talk about how Makoto’s been off for about a week now. They’ve seen it themselves. But to have confirmation is a new terror in and of itself.

Nagisa anxiously scratches at his collar. 

“He’s okay,” he says. “At least… I think he should be. But he confronted me about some really personal stuff to do with Korosensei today.”

Kayano excuses herself for a moment to grab a glass of water. When she’s returned, it seems she’s decided to grab one for the all of them.

Nagisa takes it in his hand, mumbling a quick thanks and something about how he needed that.

He takes his seat on the couch next to Gakushuu, and Kayano takes hers by his side. Karma perches on the lounge chair with an expression that seems to say ‘Just spill the beans, already!’

“...So… Like you guys know, I’ve been sorta worried about Makoto,” he says. “But things really started to concern me today when he said he didn’t wanna participate in assassination anymore.”

“He  _ what?” _ Kayano asks.

“But he was so insistent on it!” Karma comments. “I mean, even the whole  _ the  _ assassination teacher thing aside, he got on your ass when you prohibited him for a while after he stabbed me.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t like him,” Nagisa says. “And his friends were worried about him, too. That was the last straw. So I pulled him aside after tutoring and asked him to tell me what was going on.”

“And…?” Gakushuu says.

Nagisa pinches the bridge of his nose. “...He remembered the assassinations.”

_ “What!?” _ Gakushuu hisses.

“Like, us trying to kill him?” Kayano specifies. “Or-?”

“No. Killing people as The Reaper.”

Kayano covers her mouth with her hands and murmurs “...Oh god.”

Gakushuu’s brow furrows as he stares down at his knees. And shutting his eyes tight, he grits his teeth. Hard.

“I didn’t tell him  _ anything.  _ I swear” Nagisa says. 

“I know,” Gakushuu replies. “You **_don’t_ ** need to explain that to me. You wouldn’t put him through that. That’s not the Korosensei you wanted to remember, either.” It’s a moment before he reassures, “I trust you.” 

Even so, he looks ready to bite through his own jaw.

“W-What are you going to do? I mean, how did he react?” Kayano asks.

“Is he beating himself up over it?” Karma asks.

“...C… Could he be on the track to remembering everything?” Kayano quickly adds on.

Nagisa’s head is spinning. _ ‘One thing at a time, guys.’ _

“I don’t know what else he remembers or is going to remember yet,” he says, voice low. “Yes, he’s beating himself up over it. He cried on me for a half-hour and told me he thought he was a horrible person.”

Kayano gives him a horrified look. Karma shakes his head and Gakushuu rubs at his temple.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. I don’t even know how much I got through to him. I explained the extent of Korosensei’s redemption, and I think he sort of started to get it, but I doubt overcoming something like that can be as easy as one conversation. He was mad I hadn’t told him earlier, too.”

“You were trying to protect him-” Gakushuu groans.

“I know,” Nagisa says. “...But those were his memories. And it seems he was going to find his way back to them eventually either way. That’s why…” He pauses.

“'That’s why' what?” Gakushuu asks.

“I’m going to tell him the rest.”

Gakushuu stares through him. Karma and Kayano exchange a concerned glance. And Nagisa balls his fist.

The silence is electric.

_ “Nagisa,”  _ Gakushuu finally says, voice firm and desperate.

“I know,” Nagisa says, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “...But what else am I supposed to do?”

Gakushuu sighs out deeply through his nose. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know.”

“I can’t let him face this alone,” Nagisa explains. “Not again. It’s clear he’s going to remember regardless of what I do. And so… I want to tell him this story through the lens that Korosensei was a hero. That he was a flawed but good person. I don’t want him to have to see this through the self-loathing lens Korosensei viewed himself through. I promised him I was going to tell him the truth from now on, and so I’m not budging. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to change my mind about this.”

Gakushuu doesn’t respond. He simply gives a halfhearted nod, before shaking his head and staring down at his knees.

He's quivering. Nagisa pats him once, then twice, equally at a loss for words. He can’t blame him for feeling helpless. It’s clear he hates that this is happening to a defenseless kid. Nagisa hates it, too. They all do.

It just feels so, so out of their control.

That’s why Nagisa has to take control of some aspect of it, right…? He can’t leave this one up to the world. Up to Makoto’s subconcious. Not when they’ve both been so ungentle with him in the past.

_ “Everything?”  _ Kayano says, voice quiet.

“Everything. He deserves to know.”

Kayano bites her lip. “...And what if he blames himself for that, too?”

“Then that’s a bandaid we need to rip off now,” Nagisa says. “He’s going to find out sooner or later. I’d rather tell him now that she never blamed him for what happened than let him jump to guilty conclusions on his own later.”

Kayano’s eyes water, and she shuts them tight, like she’d never expected someone to put her exact concerns into words.

“...Yeah,” she says, voice shaking.  _ “She never blamed him.”  _ She inhales deeply, and musters a halfhearted smile. “...Tell him, okay? You’re right. I don’t want him to think it was his fault.” She gives a weak laugh. “I never want him to feel the way I felt back then.”

“I will,” Nagisa reassures. And giving her his best attempt at a reassuring smile, he says “...I’ll let him know that was one of the best years of her life.”

Kayano nods firmly.

“Seems you’re pretty deadset on this,” Karma comments, peering at him from across the living room. “In that case, I’m here to back you up. This whole thing isn’t exactly leaving a good taste in my mouth either, but what else can you do? I trust you with Korosensei related affairs. Spill the beans. I’ll help you with the emotional support.” He pauses. “God knows he’s gonna need it. Never let it show back then, but all that serial-murderer scientific-experiment stuff freaked the  _ everloving shit out of me as a ki _ d. I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now.”

“Me neither,” Nagisa admits. “...But… Thank you. I’m sure he’ll really appreciate that.”

He doesn’t need to say, ‘I will too.’ Because meeting Karma’s gaze with a thankful look, he’s certain he already knows.

Nagisa looks Gakushuu’s way. Beads of sweat are trickling down his forehead. “...Gakushuu, will you be mad at me if I go through with this? I know I told you I wouldn’t let him in on any more of this than I needed to. But I think we’re getting to that point.”

Gakushuu steeples his fingers. And peeling his eyes open, he glances Nagisa’s way. “...This isn’t something you should need to come to me for permission for,” he admits. “Yes, this makes me uncomfortable. But I know you respect that, and I know you’re considering me in this situation. Which… I appreciate. But… by God, if you think this is the right decision, then don’t let me stop you. What I asked you to do is put that boy’s well-being before anything else. And that includes my own. 

“As long as you’re looking out for him… Preventing him from entering a situation where he feels like there’s someone or something he needs to be, then I could never be mad at you. Do what you think is right.” He pauses. “Just… Please. Be gentle with him.”

Squeezing Gakushuu’s shoulder, Nagisa promises he will.

But even as he and his spouses agree it’s a plan, he’s left wondering if there  _ is  _ any gentle way to explain something like that.

Explaining loss - Explaining violence - Explaining  _ torture _ to a kid.

It makes him feel a little sick. And a little helpless, too. But there’s no going back now. He’s made his decision. He’s made his promise to Makoto. And there’s only one possible future he can see going forward.

That’s letting him know the truth in the kindest way he can.

It’s something he spends his whole evening reflecting on... The best way to tell the story, and the best way to frame his savior. The best way to explain a life of misery and departure without forever tainting his hero in said hero’s own mind.

Even as he slips into bed… Into pajamas and out of his crescent heirloom, he wonders...

Stares out the window in his bedroom, and up at the night sky...

There it sits, almost full. But not quite. Not ever. Never again.

Because when he squints, he can still catch the cracks trailing across the moon’s surface.

...They seem smaller every day. Harder and harder to notice with the untrained eye. Fading, just like Korosensei’s black and white legacy. 

For the world, at least. Because Nagisa still cares enough to spot them. And as long as he does, he’s sure at least someone else out there will remember what happened.

_ Remember what shattered the moon…  _

Now all he can do is pray that that same force won't shatter Makoto as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20! It's beginning to look like this fic might seriously reach 40 chapters or at least 35 eventually and that has me both dead inside and excited.
> 
> Sorry for another sorta dark/dreary chapter, but I hope some catharsis could be found in this one as well. It was a very emotion driven chapter, and I'm happy that Makoto finally told Nagisa what he was going through.
> 
> With Nagisa telling Makoto and the rest of the class the full story of Korosensei, an arc I've dubbed 'The Moon Unit' is coming up. It's going to be EXTREMELY fun. Though whether or not Makoto can actually handle it is yet to be seen. Either way, it will involve a LOT of plot stuff, so I hope you're excited!
> 
> Next chapter will also be up in a week! And one day after my birthday! I have like three chapters ahead of the published ready, and it feels awesome to be so on schedule. Hopefully the chapter after THAT can also go up just a week after that, but no promises.
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were The Guide To Success from Things To Ruin, Murder, Murder! From Jekyll and Hyde, King by Lauren Aquilina, and Heirloom by Sleeping At Last.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! And see you next week! o/


	21. Moon Unit Time

Nagisa decides there’s no better time than the present and schedules the moon unit for next week.

The Friday before he pulls Makoto aside in homeroom and asks him if this is what he really wants.

“...Are you trying to get me to back out now?” Makoto asks, voice hurt.

“No,” Nagisa says. “I just want to warn you that Korosensei went through some really serious stuff... Some of which you haven’t even begun to remember yet. Are you sure you can handle it?”

Makoto’s silent for a moment, before nodding. “Are you kidding me?” he says, stifling a laugh. “Of course I can handle it. I’m Korosensei. I’ve waited all my life for this.”

Staring up at him with those big hopeful eyes, Nagisa doesn’t have the heart to say no. To tell him he’s scared of scarring him. Not when he knows Makoto will hate him forever if he hides anything else from him.

...For a brief moment, he wonders if that’s what he cares about most: himself, and he feels sick to his stomach. But he quickly shakes the feeling.

Makoto wouldn’t push it if this wasn’t clearly important to him, too. He’s not putting his own needs above Makoto’s. He’s helping him come to understand something hurtful in the most gentle way he can.

...At least, he thinks so.

He spends the whole weekend drawing up lesson plans.

When he tells the kids Monday what they’re going over, they fucking riot. They haven’t done anything quite this interesting and intensive since the Sports Festival, and it’s clear as day they’re excited to be let in on the intricacies of such a world-shattering mystery. When he breaks the news that he’s found a way to incorporate the ‘moon unit’ into  _ every  _ subject, and that they’ll be taking a break from their normal studies for a week, they practically lose their goddamn minds.

“History, maybe, but what does Korosensei have to do with _ science!?”  _ Haruhi snarks.

He can’t wait for the look on their faces when he reveals how _ Manami Okuda _ and  _ Kotaro Takebayashi  _ first developed their universal blood type. 

“He's... Like... Super related to science, dumbfuck!” Minako shouts. “But, like, what about art?”

Nagisa gently reminds Minako to use kind words with his friends, before making up some excuse about Korosensei having a fascinating, artistic and easily-drawable face.

“Home EC?” Haruhi snarks, as if she’s found a trump card.

_ Ohhhh boy does Nagisa have a story to tell her. _

All in due time, however. They have a full week to dissect who exactly Korosensei was, and how exactly he changed the world. He’s sure by the end they’ll understand how he changed every subject of Nagisa’s world, too.

“And you’re going to go into everything?” Rin asks.

_ “Everything,”  _ Nagisa confirms, meeting Makoto’s eyes.

“I dunno. That sounds… Classified,” Rin admits. “Is this legal?”

Nagisa gives a sheepish shrug. “Mostly. There’s some legal ramifications I’m technically skirting around, but with how much the media leaked, the gag order is more or less inoperational by now. As long as no-one, like, directly reports me to the government, I’ll be fine.”

“You hear that?” Rikuto sneers, leaning over to elbow Kiyoshi. “No tattling on Shiota-sensei to mommy and daddy.”

Kiyoshi’s embarrassment only lasts for a split second, soon replaced by exasperation. He huffs and scoots his chair away from Rikuto. “Are you kidding me? My mom’s already leaked more ‘classified information’ to me than Shiota-sensei could even  _ dream  _ to.”

Makoto laughs at his joke, but the ever studious Fumiko is already on track. Scarf snug around her throat, she leans forward over her desk with a look in her eyes that says ‘tell me everything.’

Nagisa’s happy to oblige.

Tapping his hand on the board, he calls for everyone's attention. And when all eyes are on him, he smiles wide and speaks.

“I hope you’re all ready to learn the story of the kindest man I have ever met.”

He swears he sees Makoto grin.

...Maybe this won’t go as badly as he’d worried.

* * *

“Was he sexy, though?”

Scratch that. This is going fucking awful.

**_“P-pardon!?”_ **

The question comes up halfway through first period. Nagisa’s going over the basics of who Korosensei was: his powers and his personality, when Matsuya’s hand shoots in the air and he dares breach the forbidden question.

“Was he sexy?”

“...M… Matsuya, I’m not discussi-”

“All the official photos of him are, like, candid shots. Blurry government photos. But you knew the guy, right? You’ve gotta have pictures. Show em off. ‘Cause I gotta know if Korosensei was hot.”

“There are photos in a few slides, Matsuya. But we are not debating whether or not Korosensei was ‘hot.’”

“Wait. The man brings up a good point,” Kazuki interrupts with a huff. “It is your job as an educator to foster our questions, no? Matsuya’s got a perfectly valid concern. He’s right. Every photo we’ve seen of Korosensei up until now, artists’ depictions aside, have been shitty. We haven’t been able to come to our own conclusions on whether or not he was sexy. 

“As a teacher, isn’t it your job to help us learn? To help us come to said conclusions? In depriving us of clear pics of your potentially-sexy teacher, you’re stifling our learning opportunities.”

“I’ll - I’ll show you photos!” Nagisa hisses. “Just stop calling him sexy!”

Kazuki gives him a wry smile.

“Please!”

“Sexy octopus!” Ryoko declares, slamming her fist on the table.

“Ryoko, that’s inappropriate-”

“Sexy octopus!” she continues to chant.

“Show us the sexy octopus!” Matsuya joins in, joining in on the chorus of pounding fists.

_ ‘That is my father figure you are talking about!'  _ Nagisa internally notes, mind wracked with distress.

“Unless you _w_ _ ant _ to be just like the government, hiding the real secrets from the public!? Let us see him!” Kiku declares.

“For education!” Kazuki snarks.

“For procreation!” Ryoko ever-so helpfully adds on.

Nagisa covers his face with abject horror. For fuck’s sake, guys! Poor Makoto is right the-

“Sexy octopus! Sexy octopus!”

_ Makoto’s joined in. _

With a deep sigh, Nagisa relents. Tapping his Powerpoint clicker two times, he brings them to the slide with pictures of Korosensei… Pictures taken  _ directly from his sentimental yearbook, mind you. _ Spirit broken, he then proceeds to make his way over towards his desk chair, sit down, and cover his face with his hands.

Instantly, the class explodes into debate. Ryoko cries “sexy octopus” one more time for good measure, and Rosey hisses in through her teeth.

“...I was sorta team sexy,” she says. “But now that I’m seeing him for real, he’s a little wack looking.”

“Are you kidding me?” Kazuki says. “He’s a total hottie.”

Emiko groans at her brother’s comment. “You’re  _ literally _ only saying this to make me mad, aren’t you?”

“No! No!” Kazuki replies. “I mean it! Just look at him!”

“He looks like he’d offer to help me do my homework and then fall asleep on the couch watching reruns of old sitcoms at 8PM! That is the  _ opposite  _ of sexy,” Hachirou growls.

“Some people are into that,” Matsuya reminds him.

“Well, _ you  _ better be into getting your ass beat, because I’m this close to pummeling the shit out of you.”

Reluctantly, Nagisa uncovers his eyes. As much as he hates the basis of this entire fucking conversation, his job as a teacher still stands and he can’t even chance letting Hachirou ‘pummel the shit’ out of Matsuya for real.

Thankfully for him and for Matsuya’s kneecaps, Hachirou doesn’t make a motion to actually stand.

“Can I be honest?” Komoshi asks.

“Of course, Komoshi! This is an avenue for open discussion. You should ALWAYS feel free to voice your opinions,” Kazuki instructs, arms open in an inviting posture. “We’ll be honored to hear your take on the matter.”

“...He’s kinda scary looking.”

“On second thought your opinion is shit and you should have decided to keep your trap shut.”

_ “Kazuki,”  _ Nagisa reminds him. He doesn’t exactly appreciate his Cool Dad being called scary, either, but this conversation is enough of a trash fire as is and the last thing he needs is it becoming an actual argument. “Please don’t say things like that to your classmates. Please don’t hurt someone’s feelings over... This.” 

“Over this intellectual avenue of discussion?” Kiku asks.

“Sure. Over this intellectual avenue of discussion,” Nagisa replies, feeling his heart shrivel up and die.

It’s five minutes later that they’ve formed the opposing factions that are ‘Team Hot’ and ‘Team Not,’ leaving Nagisa to wonder what  _ the absolute hell _ is wrong with kids today. The last thing he’d ever want to sound like is some sort of embittered Baby Boomer considering he’s as Gen-Z as they get, but back in HIS day they had class civil wars over whether or not to _ commit actual murder,  _ not over whether or not his surrogate father was ‘bootylicious.’ 

Education was a mistake, actually. Forget that whole heartwarming conversation he had with Makoto half a week ago. He should have become an assassin. This field is a cesspit and children are demons.

“So you’re team hot?” Riko demands, leaning over her desk and towards Misaki’s.

“I guess I’m team hot,” Misaki relents.

Nagisa catches Makoto pump his fist in victory.

...Well, at least  _ someone’s  _ having a good time.

Matsuya slams his palm on the table. “That only leaves two unaligned! Chiharu, where do you stand!?” he demands, pointing.

“I  _ really _ don’t want to partake in this conversation!” Chiharu yelps, his tail metaphorically in between his legs.

“Fumiko, then!” Matsuya cries. “You’re the deciding vote! You’ve been awfully quiet! Tell us what you think!”

Makoto leans over towards her, whispering excitedly. Kiyoshi covers his face and shakes his head, begging her to be the force of reason here. 

“I’m so tired,” he mumbles. “Please, Fumiko.  _ Please.” _

Fumiko’s expression is indecipherable. Completely unphased as her classmates pound their fists on the desks around her, she listens to them chant “HOT OR NOT!?” as if savoring the attention. And then, with every eye on her, she says completely straight-faced.

“He’s a little hot.”

A cheer overtakes the room. Makoto bursts into a fit of giggles, and soon Fumiko’s straight face fades as well. Laughing so hard she wheezes, she bowls over and wipes half-embarrassed, half-amused tears from her eyes.

“What!?” she snickers, giggling at Kiyoshi’s legitimately offended stare. “He _ is! _ Just a  _ little!” _

**_“WILL YOU PEOPLE STOP CALLING MY SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMON HOT!?”_ ** Kiyoshi wails.

Nagisa never thought he’d ever relate to Kiyoshi’s debilitating and literally constant distress as much as he does right now.

“I think we broke Shiota-sensei,” Terumi finally says, pointing a finger.

“Can you blame him?” Haurhi hisses. “You’re all degenerates and need to go to fucking prison.”

“Do you mean _ fucking  _ priso-?” 

Nagisa doesn’t allow Kazuki to finish that sentence. Bolting to his feet, he snatches the clicker and goes back to the previous slide.

“Okay! We’re going back to the lesson!” he says. There’s a time and place for everything, but  _ sex-ed is a completely different lesson, and _ **_not one for today!_ **

It takes a literal half-hour to calm the class down and get them to stop shouting not-so-safe-for-work comments. But despite the withering, life-draining and downright rancid vibes his students have decided to bestow upon him today, Makoto seems on cloud nine the entire time.

...Well, at least he’s having fun with these lessons instead of beating himself up further. It’s a degenerate, indiscriminate victory that spits upon everything Nagisa loves, but a victory nonetheless.

He’ll take it.

The rest of the day goes smoothly. He explains the basics of Korosensei’s powers, his physical weaknesses, and the mechanics behind his Mach 20 speed. He even gets to share an anecdote of the time Korosensei took he and Karma on a Mach 20 ride to see the Sonic Ninja film overseas. Makoto’s eyes sparkle, and he scribbles notes the entire time.

By the end of the day, he’s in an excellent mood. And the rest of the class seems fully engaged, plus fascinated to find out what comes next. Nagisa knows things are only bound to grow a little darker with each day, but even so, he thinks he feels a bit better about how this is going to go.

Because it seems like Makoto’s having the time of his life. And he trusts Makoto’s friends and peers to make the rest of the week as enjoyable for him as today had been.

* * *

“Which brings us to Korosensei’s life before he became Korosensei. Now that we know who Korosensei was, it’s important for us to know who he’d been before that. And  _ that  _ is The Reaper.”

Makoto has this hardened look on his face Kiyoshi’s not sure he likes.

“Believe it or not, before Korosensei was Korosensei, he was an average human. In fact, just about as average as they come. But does anyone know what he happened to do with this averageness he had?”

Fumiko’s hand shoots in the air.

“Fumiko?”

“He was an assassin, yes?”

That earns a nod from Nagisa. “Yes, actually. And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Well, if you backwards logic it, it only makes sense,” she huffs. “He was the teacher of the assassination classroom, no? It’d be inane for him to teach a subject he had no expertise in. And that only leaves one deduction: That he had been well-versed in assassination himself.” She pauses. “Not to mention, ‘The Reaper,’ is a pretty telling title.”

“Good work!” Nagisa says. “Now that took _ my _ class almost the whole year to figure out,” he admits with a chuckle. “Sometimes we weren’t the brightest kids.”

He taps the board, bringing it forward to a slide featuring information on the elusive Reaper. And Kiyoshi is taken aback by what he sees.

He knew Korosensei had killed people. That was bound to come up once or twice during family chitchat considering  _ so had his mom,  _ but he’d never known just how many people Korosensei had killed.

It’s weird enough to know that his parents’ dead coworker who’s secretly his best friend has killed people. But knowing _ his exact fucking kill count _ is... It’s...  **_He doesn't want to think about that!_ **

Nevertheless, there it is in front of him:

‘The enigmatic Reaper was uncontestedly the most feared killer of the 21st century. With a death count of over a thousand, his technique was unmatched.’

...Of the 21st century!? That’s an  _ extremely  _ bold claim to make considering the century _ isn’t even over yet! _

And even so, he can’t shake the feeling that that’s somehow unconditionally the truth. How many people is a  _ thousand?  _ Is that even physically possible!? His mom had described kills that took  _ weeks _ to plan!  _ Months, _ even!

As Nagisa takes things back a minute and begins to describe what it would have been like for an orphaned child to grow up in a wartorn world, Kiyoshi can hardly bring himself to focus. The little cogs in his brain turning at a mile a minute, he’s he wonders just how intelligent and calculating someone would have to be to have managed to kill that many people.

_...How cruel? _

For one horrified moment, he wonders if his fear of Makoto hadn’t been completely unfounded.

That day in the forest, and the way Makoto had stunned him with one simple motion of his hands…

In another world, could that moment of stillness have spelled his demise?

“He quickly found himself proficient with both blades and firearms. Although his kills initially began in an attempt to protect himself, they quickly shifted their focus to earning him money. And when he’d found even  _ that _ couldn’t sate him, he began to simply assassinate people he believed to be corrupt or that other assassins had failed to ‘finish off.’”

The class chitters excitedly, posing theories on how someone so goddamn brutal could have found a change of heart and became the perfect teacher. Hand high in the air, Kiku excitedly inquires about his ‘most grisly murder.’

“I don’t know,” Nagisa admits. “Those weren’t details he was inclined to share with us.”

It’s easy enough to imagine, however, if you let your mind wander like Kiyoshi does. Torn throats and split stomachs. The barrel of a gun pressed to a head, and the ensuing, ear-shredding _ ‘bang.’ _

Makoto’s expression is indecipherable. His fist clenches and unclenches. He takes deep breaths. And like he’s been preparing his whole life for this lesson, he simply stares forward blankly.

Fumiko doesn’t seem to sense it… The danger in the air. She diligently scrawls her notes, an excited glimmer in her eyes as if she’s being let in on something she was never supposed to know. Kiyoshi feels it, too.

But where it fascinates Fumiko, it petrifies him.

Makoto wouldn’t…  _ Makoto wouldn’t hurt them, right? _

Makoto glances back his way. For just one moment. And Kiyoshi’s heart  _ jumps out of its chest. _

Pure, unfiltered terror running through his veins.

“Did he, like… work with anyone?” Rin inquires. “I’m sorry to seem skeptical, but I just can’t believe someone could accomplish all of that on their own before the age of 35.”

“For the most part, no. The Reaper didn’t even make  _ contact _ with other assassins. Most of them outright doubted he existed. There was a single exception to this rule, however. And that would be a boy from Bordeaux, France.”

Kiyoshi swears he catches Makoto’s hand tremble.

“Although technically the exact identity of this boy has never been confirmed, it is known for certain that sometime around 2002, The Reaper picked up an apprentice. After the assassination of an affluent and allegedly corrupt political leader, the never-before-seen Reaper was caught red-handed by his son. Instead of being horrified or angry, however, the boy was fascinated by The Reaper’s technique, and begged for him to take him with him.”

“Impressed by the boy’s keen eye and enthusiasm, The Reaper obliged. He snatched up the boy and took him under his wing as an apprentice. Although, again, nothing has been confirmed, this lines up with the unsolved assassination of French political figure Claude Auclair and the disappearance of his son, Damien Jean Auclair”

Makoto softly wheezes.

“So… he had like a son?” Kaya asks curiously. “A… son that he stole?”

“Hardly,” Nagisa admits. “Reaper and the boy’s relationship was never anything other than professional. Cold, even. It was a dynamic of solely apprentice and master exclusively, at least... In The Reaper’s eyes. With allegations of abuse against both his wife and son pointed at Auclair when he died, it is completely possible Damien searched for a father figure in The Reaper. One he never found. And that would certainly explain what steered his next actions.”

Fumiko raises an eyebrow. “What did he do?”

“He turned The Reaper in.”

Makoto bites his lip. Hard.

“At somewhere between ages 17 and 20, after at least ten years of being in The Reaper’s Custody, Damien handed the Reaper over to police. He alerted them of their location during a particularly intricate assassination, and by the time he and The Reaper managed to make their exit, the authorities were already waiting outside. In exchange for the information, the authorities allowed Damien to walk free, and finally apprehended the notorious Reaper.”

Rikuto raises a hand. “Why haven’t we heard about this?” He asks. “Managing to arrest the biggest serial killer on the planet sounds like a  _ pretty big deal.” _

“It was top secret,” Nagisa says. “Up until now, authorities themselves hardly even believed The Reaper really existed. They feared a mass panic if the news broke out to the public, and as such simply apprehended The Reaper silently. They planned to execute him without breathing a single word of it.”

“That is not what happened, however. Before they could even begin to start the process of killing The Reaper, they were contacted by a man with an interesting preposition: An up-and-coming wealthy scientist with powerful connections. Connections _ too  _ powerful, in fact. Because where in any just world his request of ‘Give me someone who will not be missed to experiment on. In return, I’ll give you money and a new future for humanity’ would have been turned down on the spot for its innate cruelty, the government  _ obliged." _

“Without a second thought, they handed the newly apprehended Reaper over to said scientist: a man known as Kotaro Yanagisawa. But even then, thrown into a world of medical malpractice and human experimentation, The Reaper’s plans to escape never once faltered. It’s in this cruel lab that the second phase of the soon-to-become Korosensei’s life began. Because through torment and heartache, it just so happened that that lab would be the same place he’d meet someone who would change his worldview forever.”

With that, Nagisa claps and closes the Powerpoint. “All things we’ll be getting into tomorrow, however, because it’s just about time for lunch. I wouldn’t want to be getting into such heavy-handed topics with you all on an empty stomach.”

“Aw! Come on! We don’t mind!” Rosey cries.

“Booooo!” Kiku agrees. “Don’t go and leave us on a cliffhanger!”

“Sorry, guys. Considering Korosensei’s life was pretty much a constant series of cliffhangers, we’re gonna need to have a cutoff point somewhere unless you want to be here until 12AM.”

“I wouldn’t particularly mind,” Rin snarks.

“Okay, okay. Whatever you say, jokester,” Nagisa replies. “But  _ I _ have a family to get home to, and while I could talk about Korosensei all day, I’m pretty sure they’d be mad if I ended up coming home at 1AM with the excuse of ‘I was infodumping about our dead teacher.’”

He jokes it off, but Kiyoshi has a feeling there’s another reason Nagisa’s only giving them so much information a day. And his suspicions are more or less confirmed when he spots Nagisa shoot Makoto a worried glance.

...There’s only so much Korosensei can take, after all.

He’s trying to spoon-feed them the story of a tattered life in bite-sized, gentle pieces. Because surely anything more would send the recipient over keeling.

But watching the way Makoto’s lip quivers, Kiyoshi’s left to wonder if even this much is too much for the sensitive boy.

And eyes wandering, he’s sure Nagisa wonders, too.

As everyone gathers their things for lunch, Makoto stands. It’s a nice day outside and Nagisa’s offered to let them sit on the grass. People are beginning to flood out the doorway when his hand shoots in the air.

“Wait,” he says. “One more question. Before the lesson’s over. Please.” His voice trembles.

Nagisa turns around from where he’d been reaching to grab his own lunch box. And every eye in the room stares at them as he acknowledges Makoto.

“Of course,” he says. “What is it?”

“...The boy. Damien. His apprentice. What happened to him? After he turned The Reaper in?”

Nagisa blinks slowly. And giving Makoto a pitying look, he says “...He went on to become the second Reaper. Stealing The Reaper’s identity and shedding his own skin... Quite literally, he aimed to become just like his mentor. Pushing himself to his limit, he dedicated every aspect of himself to becoming the ultimate assassin.”

“...And where is he now?”

It takes Nagisa a long moment to respond. But finally, no longer able to meet Makoto's eyes, he turns his head and murmurs “He’s since passed as well.”

With that, everyone returns to the hustle-and-bustle of life. Chiharu daintily retrieves his lunch from his desk, and Ryoka slaps Terumi on the back as they make their way out of the building. The school day goes on as usual. 

But not for Makoto. Not for Nagisa. And not for Kiyoshi, either.

Because he catches it: The heartbreak in Makoto’s eyes.

Looking half-ready to faint, Makoto stares at the wall. Hand trembling ever so slightly, he bites his lip and blinks back tears.

And ashamed as he is to admit it, Kiyoshi almost swears he feels something akin to relief.

Because at least there’s something in Makoto’s eyes at all. Something other than the same emptiness Nagisa had described in The Reaper.

...As awful of a friend as it makes him, the emptiness Kiyoshi fears.

* * *

Kiyoshi crosses his fingers and hopes lunch will cheer Makoto up. The boy thinks with his stomach, after all. But even as he and Fumiko exchange snark sitting on the Fall grass, the look in Makoto’s eyes never once fades.

During PE, things go the same as usual. At least… What’s become the usual as of late. Makoto asks to sit out, claiming that he doesn’t feel well. Giving him a resigned, worried look, Nagisa simply nods and obliges. Kiyoshi supposes he should be thankful for that as well, watching Makoto gingerly place his knife on the ground, but he just can’t find it in his heart to.

...Not when Makoto looks so goddamn ashamed.

The moment Nagisa begins to explain what they’re doing today, and that he’s teaching the rest of the class how to stun clap, Kiyoshi swiftly makes his decision. He murmurs something about the technique giving him the heebie-jeebies, and admits that he’d like to sit out as well. He's been meaning to check up on Makoto anyway. 

Fumiko motions to follow, a concerned furrow to her brow, but Kiyoshi reassures her she doesn’t need to do that. It’s pretty evident that she’s the only one in their little group who's actually enjoying this lesson. It’s… like… her field of expertise. He’d hate to take that away from her. And as such, he promises he’ll take care of Makoto.

“Just enjoy yourself, okay?” he says, lowering her hand. “I’ll make sure everything's alright.”

“...Okay,” she relents “I trust you with this.”

As he turns and makes his way to meet Makoto, Kiyoshi wonders if  _ he  _ even trusts himself with this.

Is it wrong that deep down he’d rather see this Makoto than the one that Nagisa had described? Does that make him a bad friend?

It’s not that he wants Makoto to be sad! He’d take happy Makoto, too. He just… Just…

...Doesn’t want Makoto to hurt him?

It’s a ridiculous notion. Makoto’s the sort of person who tiptoes around ant holes and places spiders under cups to let them back outside. He loves pretty flowers and has fully admitted he  _ isn’t capable of picking a favorite season because he likes them all so much. _ He wouldn’t hurt another person if his life depended on it!

But... Nagisa had made it clear The Reaper would have. And Kiyoshi has to wonder… Is this another fabricated notion of his anxieties, or is he right to be wary just this once?

...Wary? Wary of _ what!? _ His best friend? Who’d comforted him crying in his bedroom a month ago? Who’d approached him when _ no-one  _ thought he was worth it and decided to be his companion?

Maybe that’s another reason he feels obligated to approach Makoto. To talk to him and… Like… Cheer him up or whatever. Because maybe that’d mean he’s not as much of a shitty friend as he feels like right now. Or at least maybe it could sorta ease some of his fears.

Makoto doesn’t even seem to notice him approaching. When Kiyoshi takes a seat next to him on the doorstep he jolts.

“Hey,” Kiyoshi says. “Thought I’d sit out too. I’m not too particularly into this assassination stuff.”

Makoto watches their classmates clap their hands across the field.

“...Yeah. Me neither,” he admits.

Kiyoshi sighs. “Listen. Uh… I’m not gonna beat around the bush. You feeling okay?” he asks.

Makoto shrugs. “As okay as I can be,” he says. “Try not to worry, okay?”

“Again: You’re forgetting that worry is… Like… All I do,” Kiyoshi jokes.

That earns a snort from Makoto.

“This… Is… Like, a really heavy lesson topic, though,” Kiyoshi continues. “Are you really sure you’re okay with this? I know Shiota-sensei wants to teach everyone about Korosensei’s legacy, but…”

Makoto quickly shakes his head. “No. He didn’t do anything wrong,” he reassures. “I asked for these lessons.”

Kiyoshi stares. “...What?”

“I asked for him to do this,” Makoto says. “...I…” He stares down at his hands “I… Started remembering stuff on my own. About hurting people. It scared me. It still does. But I want to know about everything I did. No more secrets. Everything out in the open.” He sighs. “I like to think that way I can finally start to make up for some of it.”

Kiyoshi frowns. Somehow that sounds even sadder coming from Makoto’s mouth. It’s not that he particularly thinks differently of the situation, but…

“Didn’t you already make up for some of it? As Korosensei?” he asks.

Makoto shrugs his shoulder. “Even I don’t think he ever thought it was enough.”

...It’s weird to think about Korosensei having regrets. Having anxieties just like everyone else on the planet.

But there he sits, shoulders slumped, and Kiyoshi has no doubts.

Kiyoshi reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder. Terrified or not, he thinks Makoto needs that.

“I’m… Uh… Sorry to hear about your son.”

Makoto shakes his head again. “He wasn’t my son.”

_ ‘Because you didn’t want him to be, or because you don’t think you deserved him?’  _ Kiyoshi wonders. Eleven years is a long,  _ long  _ time.

“I’m sorry about your apprentice.”

“Me too,” Makoto says.

The tension in the air is palpable. Silently staring across the field, Makoto shuts his eyes and breaths out through his nose.

“...I didn’t know he had a name until now.”

“Pardon?”

“Damien. I didn’t know that was his name. Up until now in my head, he’s just always been ‘the boy,’ ‘the apprentice,’ ‘the student.’”

“...Oh.” Kiyoshi says.

“He… Wasn’t some nameless orphan. Not like I was. He had a family, a future. And I  _ took  _ that from him, Kiyoshi. I didn’t even have the kindness to address him as a  _ person. _ The minute he came under my wing, he simply became ‘Hey. You.’ His name was Damien Jean Auclair, and I  _ took that from him.” _

Makoto looks ready to cry.

And against his better judgement, Kiyoshi scoots closer.

“I’m… sure it would mean something to him that you care now.”

“Mmmm…” Makoto says.

He scratches anxiously at the back of his hand.

“You don’t need to do this, you know,” Kiyoshi says.

“Huh?"

“Like… Punish yourself. I know you asked Shiota-sensei for this, but I’m sure it’s not too late to sit out of the lessons if you think they’re going to make you keep feeling this way.”

Makoto shakes his head. “No. I told you: I signed up for this,” he says. “If Nagisa doesn’t tell me now, I’ll remember all on my own. And let me tell you: remembering slashing someone's throat open on your own is the loneliest feeling in the world.”

...It takes all of Kiyoshi’s effort to resist shuddering.

“Well… You’re not alone,” he says. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Makoto says. “I’m lucky to have you guys.”

“We’re lucky to have you, too.”

Makoto sends him a wistful glance. “...I like to think you two are my reminder that it won’t be this bad forever. That… this’ll be just like ripping a band-aid off. Once I know everything Korosensei went through, then I can go back to being my usual happy self.” He pauses. “Try not to worry about me too much, okay? Think of this as just…” He mulls it over. “Think of this as just the darkest before the dawn. Before you know it, everything will be back to normal.”

And despite it all, Makoto cocks his head and gives him one of those wide, bittersweet smiles.

...Kiyoshi doesn’t smile back.

“You don’t have to be happy all of the time, Makoto,” he says.

Makoto doesn’t have some reassuring response to that.

Instead, they simply sit in silence, Makoto scratching at the back of his hand, and Kiyoshi wishing he had some way to know what sort of person his self-declared best friend truly wants to be.

Finally, Makoto speaks. “...Thanks for coming to check up on me,” he says. “You didn’t have to do that, y’know. Sit out.”

Kiyoshi shrugs. “I wanted to,” he admits. “I was worried about you. And I’ve told you, anyways: I don’t like that stun clap stuff.”

Makoto squints. “...Is that what they’re doing?” he asks, bringing his hand up to his brow. He leans forward and peers.

“Mmmm,” Kiyoshi responds, laying his hands on his lap.

Once he’s confirmed his suspicions, Makoto sits back with a sigh. His gaze having drifted to his classmates, he stares out at the wide, open field.

“I don’t know how he manages to make this stuff fun,” he admits. “Assassination.”

Kiyoshi frowns. “Shiota-sensei, you mean?”

“Yeah,” Makoto says. “...Dunno how I managed to make it fun, either.” He knits at his hands. “I guess I did what I had to… Since… They had to hurt me. But…” He drifts off, looking back Kiyoshi’s way. “...Do you think I messed them up?”

“Huh?”

“Nagisa. And the rest of the students, too. You’ve grown up around them, haven’t you? Do you think I left any of them more hurt than I found them?”

Kiyoshi blinks. Now that’s a loaded question.

...Will Makoto think he’s lying if he answers  _ ‘no?’  _ Because he doesn’t. He  _ doesn’t  _ think Korosensei did that. He doesn’t have a ‘back then’ to compare the E-Class to. Not like Makoto does. But despite all their struggles… They seem relatively well adjusted to him.

“Nah,” he says. “...I think… This is just part of carrying on your legacy,” he admits, gesturing towards the field.

“...My legacy of _ what?” _ Makoto asks, voice soft. “Hurting people isn’t what I want to be remembered for.”

Kiyoshi sighs, shoulders falling. “I don’t think ‘hurting people’ is ever what Nagisa saw this aspect of your life as,” he says. “If I’m being honest, I don’t even think he sees ‘assassination’ and ‘the assassination classroom’ as the same thing.”

“...Then what’s the difference?” Makoto asks. “Who’s being hurt?”

Kiyoshi shakes his head. “...I don’t know, Makoto. I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand Korosensei… But… I do think he managed to turn something scary into something fun for a bunch of people who needed that more than anything. I think they’ll always treasure those memories.” 

...He almost says _ ‘I’m sorry you can’t treasure them anymore, either. _

Not quite. But almost.

“Mmm,” Makoto says. “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand him, either.”

They sit in silence once more. And as the autumn breeze flits through the air, a leaf lands between them.

“Kiyoshi? Can I ask you a question?” Makoto asks. “Like… A personal question?”

“Yeah,” Kiyoshi answers. “Anything.”

“Okay. But you gotta promise to answer me honestly. You won’t hurt my feelings unless you lie to me. At your place... You said we gotta be honest with each other from now on. For our own sake. So please... Tell me the truth."

Kiyoshi’s lips press. Eyes drifting towards the ground, he asks. “...What is it?” 

“Are you scared of me, Kiyoshi?”

And Kiyoshi freezes. Heart pounding in his chest, he keeps his eyes fixed firmly towards the ground. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out.

“I’m not stupid,” Makoto says. “I mean… I guess I sort of am. I’m not good with any of that academic stuff. Not like I was back then. But… I’m good with people. I’m good with how they feel. And I saw how you reacted to me back during the Sports Festival. The way you kept glancing towards me during Nagisa’s lesson. Do you think I’m scary?”

Kiyoshi fidgets uncomfortably. God! What is he supposed to say!? The longer he stays silent, the more suspicious his answer becomes! But he can’t just say ‘yes!’ He doesn’t  _ care  _ what Makoto says. That sort of answer will _ destroy _ him. And he can’t say ‘no,’ either! Makoto will be able to tell that he’s lying! His panicked reaction already says enough! Makoto’s backed him into a corner here!

“I mean, sorta!” he says. “But I’m not - Like - Scared of _ you,” _ he insists. “I mean, I don’t  _ wanna _ be. And I’m not scared of Korosensei, either! At least… I don’t think so. I’m just scared of what he did. There’s gotta be a difference, right? Being scared of a person and being scared of what they’re capable of? A-A-At least, I’d like to think so!” he rambles. “...W… Which none of is a concern, anyways! You shouldn’t take my answer to heart, anyways. I’m scared of  _ everything.  _ You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just… I’m just… I dunno! I overthink!”

Makoto watches him curiously, staring at him with sympathetic eyes as he waits for him to finish his ramble. And when Kiyoshi's finally managed to find his words, he simply bows his head, clasps his fingers, and says:

“I see.”

...The look on his face is indecipherable.

And. Kiyoshi. Hates it. He  _ hates  _ not being able to know. He  _ hates  _ not being able to read people like Makoto can. And he _ hates _ that he knows he couldn’t deal with a person like himself in a million years. If… If someone told him they were scared of him, he thinks it would  _ break him! _

He bites his tongue so hard he thinks it’s going to bleed. Makoto doesn’t look angry. He doesn’t even look hurt. He simply blinks slowly as he takes in what Kiyoshi’s said.

And before he can even think it through, Kiyoshi snaps “...I just get scared when you do _ this!”  _

And now  _ that  _ earns a reaction from Makoto. Looking stunned, he asks “Do what?”

“I dunno… Pretend that nothing bothers you. It makes me feel like I don’t know you. That I’m not getting to meet the real you in the same way I’m opening up the real myself to you. It makes me feel  _ vulnerable.  _ It makes me feel like you could do anything you wanted to me. I _ hate _ the idea of a Korosensei who was like that all the time in one point of his life. You said we promised we'd be honest with each other, right? But that includes you, too! I want you to stop hiding how you feel!”

Makoto’s shoulders slump. 

“...Oh,” he says.

“Mmmm…” Kiyoshi responds.

“I… Think it’s ‘cause of my dad,” Makoto admits. “It feels weird and bad to blame my dad entirely, so I guess it’s not just him... But…” He shakes his head. “Maybe it’s my life entirely. Things have never come easy to me. At least not until recently. Not until you guys. And it… I dunno. It taught me how to force myself to be happy.”

“...Huh?”

“When I’m upset… I just… Don’t think about it. I force myself to have positive thoughts. I distract myself,” he says. “...I don’t think I’m, like… Trying to hide myself from you. And I don’t think I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m just… Not letting myself feel it, either.” He pauses. “...I dunno if that makes any sense, but-”

Kiyoshi shakes his head. “No. It makes a lot of sense,” he admits. “...That can’t possibly be healthy, though.”

...It’s funny. Sometimes when he looks at the emotionally distant Makoto… The Makoto who doesn’t let himself feel for fear of screwing up, he swears he catches a glimpse of his _ father  _ of all people _. _

He doesn’t want another aspect of his life to turn apathetic.

“I know,” Makoto replies, knitting at his hands. “...The Reaper’s forcing me to think about that.”

“...He did it too?” Kiyoshi asks.

“I mean, not in the same way. The Reaper didn’t let himself be  _ happy,  _ either,” Makoto reasons. “Because… The most effective way for him to live his life was to feel nothing. And it scares me. Feeling what he felt. Even for a moment, in my dreams. Because he  _ really did feel nothing.  _ Is my happiness as fake as that?”

“I don’t know,” Kiyoshi admits. “I don’t know.”

“I’m starting to get why he ended up the way he did. You heard the way Nagisa talked about where he grew up. He had it  _ way _ worse than me. He had to let himself not care. To protect himself. And… In not caring about himself, I guess he started to let himself not care about other people, too.”

Makoto sighs. “I don’t wanna be like him. Ever. I think I care about other people a lot - Well… I  _ know _ I care about other people a lot, but I don’t wanna risk ever losing that. You and Fumiko are important to me. I don’t wanna end up hurting you guys like...” He pauses. “...Like the people Korosensei cared about.”

“...You wouldn’t... Right?”

“Huh?”

“You. Right now. Not Reaper… Not Korosensei… Not who you’re scared you might be in ten years… You wouldn’t hurt us, right?” Kiyoshi asks. “I… Know that’s a dumb question with an obvious answer, but I need to know:  _ You wouldn’t hurt me, right?” _

Makoto blinks. But shaking his head, he firmly pats Kiyoshi on the back. “No. I wouldn’t hurt you,” he says. “Not if my life depended on it.”

“You’re good, then,” Kiyoshi says with a shaky break. “I think… Whoever you're going to become... You’ll be good. And then… Neither of us will have to be afraid.”

Makoto gives him a tired smile. But just this once, Kiyoshi can detect the sincerity behind it. “I think I’d like that.”

“I meant what I said during our sleepover,” Kiyoshi says. “That you can be open with me. About how you feel. About when you’re scared. About when you don’t like yourself. Fumiko, too. ‘Cause… While I know what you’re most worried about is that one day you won’t care for others… I hope one day I can meet the Makoto who cares about himself just as much as he cares about everyone else. A Makoto who’s willing to let himself open up to me.”

Makoto scoots closer. “...I’ll do everything in my power to let you meet him.”

“Good,” Kiyoshi says. “‘Cause that’s the Makoto I won’t be scared of. Not even a little.”

And watching their classmates play; Shouting and laughing at the top of their lungs across the field… Makoto leans on Kiyoshi’s shoulder. 

Looking completely exhausted, with the weight of something incomprehensible on his shoulders… Kiyoshi doesn’t flinch back from him. He wouldn't dare. Instead, he’ll simply sits perfectly still, and tries his best to offer his support.

In a world where Makoto is more scared of Korosensei than he could ever be, he thinks he wants to help him carry that weight.

* * *

...Maybe… Makoto’s finally becoming able to handle it.

He’s still not sure if he likes the Reaper. He’s still not even sure if he likes Korosensei. But reflecting on Kiyoshi’s words… Nagisa’s, too, he’s starting to think maybe he’ll finally be able to move on from suffocating in that pit of self doubt. He’s… Come to terms with what he did. And he’s starting to think it’s not too late for him.

...That this isn’t just his chance to fix things for everyone else, but for himself, too.

As such, he walks into class on Wednesday with his head held high.

Kiyoshi and Fumiko arrive soon after, walking in tandem. Kiyoshi makes a beeline for his desk and asks him in a hushed voice how he’s doing.

Makoto shrugs, and says he thinks he’ll be okay.

“I mean it this time.”

Kiyoshi gives him a relieved smile.

“I’m happy to hear it.”

Nagisa pulls him aside before homeroom begins. Warns him that things are going to get somewhat intense today. 

“I’m not sure how much you know about what Korosensei went through at the lab, but it was some pretty messed up stuff,” he admits.

“I can handle it,” Makoto says.

After all, he’s seen the worst of Korosensei’s actions. And whatever he’s possibly been through can’t possibly be any worse than the things he’s done.

“Alright,” Nagisa says hesitantly. “Just… Let me know if you need a break at any time.”

“Can do,” Makoto says. And pulling Nagisa in tight for a hug, he promises he’ll be alright.

He has to be. He couldn’t bear to put Nagisa through even one more ounce of suffering. 

Whatever’s about to come… He asked for it. He won’t back out. And he  _ won’t  _ make Nagisa feel bad for a decision that _ he  _ made.

...The explanation begins simply enough.

Nagisa asks where he’d been when they left off yesterday. Rosey raises her hand and tells him they’d been at the part where Korosensei got arrested.

“Then he went into human experimentation or something you said, right?”

Nagisa nods. “Yes. After The Reaper was apprehended, a plethora of underground deals ended up leaving him in the hands of Kotaro Yanagisawa, an unhinged scientist with some not-so-legal ideals under his belt.”

A flash of a face in his mind. Makoto swears he’d seen it yesterday, too. But it’s clearer this time. Unruly green hair and a fresh-pressed lab coat. It doesn't match his otherwise smug, manic expression. Empty grey eyes, and a sideways sneer.

Makoto shudders.

“Yeah. So… Hey. I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” Haruhi says. “You herded us off to lunch real quick after that came up yesterday, but the more I think about that the  _ less sense _ it makes. Are you telling me that the  _ government  _ \- the paragon of enforcing legality - not only heard this man and his unauthorized ideas out, but  _ obliged to his request for a death row inmate who ‘would not be missed’ without a single second thought?  _ And not even just that. They gave this _ unhinged maniac _ the  _ most dangerous serial murderer on the planet?  _ Weren’t they worried about him escaping?”

Nagisa opens his mouth to speak. But before he can get the chance to reply, Kiku hops to her feet. “...Hey! That’s right!” she says. “That makes no sense! What happened!?”

“Kiyoshi! You should know, right?” Riko asks. “Your parents work for the government! What the heck happened there?”

Kiyoshi looks rather like a deer in the headlights. “I- I don’t know!” he cries. “They haven’t told me! They weren’t even  _ involved _ in that! T- The government isn’t some conglomerate hivemind! Remind me again why my _ air force father  _ would be making diplomatic arrangements with this guy again!?”

“I don’t know! It made more sense when I thought about it! Your dad was involved with Korosensei. I thought maybe he’d-”

“Shiota-senseeeeiiii!”

Nagisa pinches the brow of his nose. “...I don’t claim to understand anything the government does. But I both heard the story from the man himself and met his captor. While I never got the exact details, I presume it had something to do with a large offering of money and the government’s desire to weaponize his experiments if successful. You’d be surprised just what even the people in charge of us would do and which rules they would bend if they felt they had something to gai-”

“...Maybe it’s like that mad cow thing!”

“Pardon?” Nagisa sputters.

“Hey. Yeah. Uh- I’m interested in Shiota-sensei instilling anti-authoritarian distrust of our own government in us and all,” Aina says “But I’m more interested in understanding  _ what the fuck Minki just said.”  _

Minki’s chest puffs up, although it’s left unclear on whether she’s genuinely proud of her discovery or simply enjoying the experience of saying something that absolutely no-one around her can comprehend.

“So - Uh… Like don’t quote me on this, but back in the nineties they had a TON of, like, super sick cows in England that no-one wanted anything to do with. And it just so happened to be that these guys in, like… Thailand or Cambodia or something had a bunch of land mines they _ also  _ wanted nothing to do with. So they were like ‘Hey! Send over your rabid cows, and we can just have them step on the landmines, and then neither of us will have our problem anymore.’ _ It’s willdddd.” _

Nagisa sputters. “I…  _ What…  _ Okay. That’s incredibly fascinating, Minki. But I’m not sure what that has to do with Korosensei. I think we’re getting a little off topi-”

“You’re saying they wanted him to kill him!?”

“Could you blame them!? This guy showed up on their doorstep like ‘help me out with my human rights violation!’”

“Did they actually go through with that!?” Rosey wails. “The poor cows!”

**_“Is the scientist guy the landmine or the cows in this metaphor!?”_ **

Admittedly, Makoto laughs. It’s a tiny, stifled thing, but he covers his mouth with his hands and snickers. He’s not sure if it’s simply the mental image of gratuitous violence enacted on the poor bovines, his shouting classmates, or the brief divergence from a topic he has a feeling is very quickly about to go south, but it makes him laugh.

_ (He’s restrained by his wrists. His ankles and neck. Scientists whisper amongst themselves, warning each other to be careful. _

_ "Even like that, he’s deadly.") _

Makoto’s laugh quickly peters off.

As Nagisa manages to get the class’s attention back on track, he taps the blackboard with the back of his hand. 

“I’m sure most of you have been wondering where, when, and why The Reaper became Korosensei. Because as fascinating as assassination abilities are, they’re far from superhuman. As it turns out, the basis of Korosensei’s powers lies in these inhumane experiments.” 

“Although before we get into the science of it: I must remind all of you that what went down here was cruel, unnecessary, and inhumane. We’ll be looking at it from purely a historical perspective, in the same way we’d look at any other tragic event. I expect you to treat this topic with respect, and not make light of the full scope of harm that occurred because of the following experiments.”

“Of course."

The class murmurs a faint agreement. Kazuki looks half ready to crack a joke about Nagisa requesting he  _ not  _ crack jokes, but quickly shuts up when he meets Nagisa’s eyes

Nagisa sends Makoto another worried glance. But Makoto shrugs it off and simply gives him a thumbs up.

_ ‘I’m ready.’ _

He’s there again. Being rushed into the lab. Even restrained to the confines of that stretcher, he doesn’t feel a smidgeon of panic.

No. He hadn’t been the scared one there. Not even for a moment. The scientists, on the other hand…

They dared not speak his name above a hushed whisper.

If he struck such fear in their hearts...What is there for  _ him _ to possibly be afraid of?

_ (...It feels like there’s bugs crawling under his skin) _

“How much do you all know about antimatter?” Nagisa asks.

And Fumiko raises her hand. Shifting lightly in her seat she says “It has something to do with particle physics, right?”

Nagisa nods. “Put most simply… And this is going to sound dumb, but antimatter is… Well. The opposite of matter. Everything around you - Your clothes, your desk,  _ you _ are made of matter. But somewhere far in the depths of space ‘Antimatter,’ made of particles with the opposite charge, is residually left over from the creation of our universe.”

 “Why this is important, however, is the energy that antimatter produces. Despite being an incredibly rare substance to obtain, for years, both in theoreticals and literals, antimatter has been a subject of interest in scientific communities. For one reason and one reason only: Annihilation.”

_ A… Annihilation? _

There's a sinking feeling in Makoto's gut as Nagisa pulls up a diagram on the powerpoint.

“You see, when antimatter comes in contact with matter, it creates a chain reaction. This is known as annihilation. Both the matter and antimatter are destroyed in the process. But this creates an incredible surge of energy. One greater than most of us can even begin to comprehend. Because of this, physicists have searched for years for a way to harness antimatter for things like fuel, medicine and space travel. But it’s been a tricky operation outside of simple science fiction, namely because of where antimatter is formed, and how it behaves.”

“Not only is it an incredibly rare substance, but as I said: When it comes in contact with any matter, it and the matter both are destroyed. It’s near impossible to store, and can take several hundred million dollars just to produce a gram of. Because of this, it’s not viable as an energy source. There’s too little gain for too much cost.”

“I think I get it,” Kiyoshi says, frowning. “...It’s an impossibly potent material, but with no viable way to harness it.”

Makoto thinks he gets it too. And… That’s great and all. But what does  _ that  _ have to do with Korosensei?

“Exactly,” Nagisa says. “Many,  _ many _ scientists have over the years tried to find a way to create and potentially store antimatter without the risk of it quite literally blowing up in their faces. And the most infamous of these experiments has been the inhumane and wildly dangerous Cell Replacement Experiments of 2013.”

“Again: I’m not sure how much of this I’m technically legally allowed to share, so consider this a gift of sorts for being in my class. You’re learning secrets the world as a whole may never know, so please treasure that knowledge, even in the face of it being knowledge of a forbidden, cruel and volatile procedure. Because who knows? You may never have gotten the chance to learn this otherwise.”

Makoto has a feeling he would have learned about this sooner or later, with or without Nagisa's help, but he supposes he appreciates Nagisa putting it into terms he can understand.

_ (Yanagisawa had never explained what he’d been doing to him, had he?) _

_ (Thin, pristie needles. Something bright red. And the dim glow of flickering overhead lights.) _

...Makoto’s fingers start to twitch.

“Like many scientists before him, Yanagisawa searched to harness the power of antimatter as well. You see, as a man working in pharmaceuticals, he’d found a way to continuously reproduce drugs such as Soliris and Cinryze through cell division. And he believed that if given the resources, he could replicate antimatter in the same exact fashion. There was only one problem with his thesis, however: and that was the aforementioned process of annihilation.”

“He could not clone antimatter through usual means, because there was no viable way for him to store it without risk of it coming into contact with matter. After all: If he managed to produce large amounts of antimatter only for it to be contaminated by matter, it could cause an explosion of literally catastrophic proportions.”

“That’s… Where…” Nagisa pauses, frowning. And shaking his head slowly, he says “...That’s where human experimentation came in. If he could not safely create antimatter in the outside world, Yanagisawa decided he would simply reproduce it in a body. Readying select cells that he believed would begin to duplicate antimatter in a human body, he made his proposition to the government and brought The Reaper into his custody. He decided he’d create antimatter _ inside _ of him.”

Twitch. Twitch. Twitch.

Makoto swears his whole hand is beginning to spasm.

“There’s still one issue there though, isn’t there?” Kiyoshi asks. “Humans are made of matter. Even I know that much. How on earth would producing antimatter in a person’s body be any different than producing it in out the open?” He crosses steeples fingers. “If anything, that sounds  _ more _ dangerous.”

...Makoto’s skin prickles. Bright red flows through his veins.

“Good observation, Kiyoshi,” Nagisa says. “In any other situation, you’d be correct. But Yanagisawa wasn’t simply storing or creating antimatter inside of The Reaper. He was creating Antimatter _ out of  _ The Reaper.”

_ He  _ **_WHAT!?_ **

Makoto’s head is starting to spin.

“You see, for every cell the antimatter touched, both were destroyed. But more antimatter cells were only made in their place. As The Reaper’s cells were slowly destroyed from the inside out, the destruction spread. And one by one the empty space where his molecules had been was replaced.”

_ The man stands there, muttering his stern commands. And then, staring at Makoto with those empty malevolent eyes, he draws a needle to his skin. _

“I’ve never heard of. . . . . A theoretical like that.” 

Makoto watches Kiyoshi’s mouth move, but he only manages to make out half the words.

_ He can’t move. Why? Is he petrified out of pure terror, or still somewhere strapped to that operating table? Try as he may, he just can’t tear his arm away. _

His classmates have a horrified look on their faces. They begin to murmur and question. Fumiko turns her head to stare at him. But Makoto doesn’t make eye contact.

...It feels like she’s staring through him.

_ The needle pierces his skin, and Makoto feels red hot magma flow through his veins. _

It takes all of his effort to resist keeling over. Just barely steadying himself on his desk with the back of his elbow, he glances around the room.

“There’s no way that . . . . . I mean . . . . . Sounds dangerous at best,” one of his classmates mutters.

“Extremely so,” Nagisa replies, as if it’s the most obvious deduction in the world. 

_ Is it?  _ **_Is it?_ **

His fingers are locked in rigor mortis. Staring down at the back of his hand, maybe a foot above where he’d received the injection, he watches his joints twitch.

“And what would that do . . . . . To a person’s body?” Another classmate murmurs, just barely discernible behind the ringing in his ears. “At that point . . . . . Even human?”

Makoto swears he sees his  _ skin bubble. _

“Indeed. It began to cause . . . . . Devastating mutations,” Nagisa explains.

His flesh writhes under the surface. His fingers begin to snake out. Wiry, sinewy, and thrashing with a force so beyond his control. 

It hurts. It  _ hurts. _

He places his other hand over the back of his hand, desperately trying to get it under control. Clutching tight and knuckles paling as he squeezes. But try as he might, his left hand only begins to writhe with the same intensity.

_ There’s nothing he can do _ .

...Nagisa’s still talking. But Makoto can’t make out his words. There’s burning hot embers in his chest. His lungs. His face and his fingers. Tearing him apart from the inside out.

“Intense fits of pain . . . . . Vomiting blood . . . . . Temporary organ failure and loss of conscious control over his body.”

It spreads up his arm. His veins bulge and burn. He swears he even feels the hair lift on the back of his neck.

“. . . . .Tentacles.”

_ An injection and then another. It never once lets up. Without a single shred of doubt, Yanagisawa shows his ugly face every day. Sometimes more. With each puncture left in Makoto’s(?) skin, the pain becomes more and more impossible to bear. _

_ One day an overpowering urge to vomit overcomes him. He attempts to heave up his tattered organs, but only finds himself choking on his own blood. He suffocates on the taste of salt and iron, hacking for his life as he attempts to get something up from where he lays flat on the operating table. _

_ Yanagisawa laughs. He fucking _ **_laughs._ ** _ And after another moment of watching Makoto flounder helplessly, he undoes the neck restraint and wretches his head to the side. _

_ Makoto desperately spits on blood on the floor. _

_ Yanagisawa simply gives him another amused smirk and returns him to his restraints. Hands in his pockets, he murmurs something about how he can’t risk his guinea pig dying just yet. _

_ ‘Just yet.’ _

_ Makoto HATES the sound of that. _

“. . . . .Inhabitable conditions,” Nagisa continues. “. . . . .Was only kept unrestrained for several hours a day. . . . . If it hadn’t been for the antimatter . . . . . Severe muscle atrophy . . . . . Kept alive by IV . . . . .”

“. . . . .Impossible,” another classmate murmurs. Is that Kiyoshi? Makoto can’t tell. He can’t even make out his voice. “. . . . .How could someone . . . . . Remain alive? Under those conditions . . . . It sounds . . . . .” He shudders. “. . . . . Incomprehensible. Absolutely incomprehensible.”

Makoto’s not sure he comprehends it himself.

“How long was he . . . . . ?” another classmate asks. “How long did they . . . . . Keep him alive like that?”

“A year,” Nagisa says, voice quiet. “They kept him alive in those conditions . . . . . For a year.”

A year. A year of the red hot pain and that  _ insufferable face _ . A year of staring up at flickering lights. A year of wondering where he’d slipped up - What he’d done wrong to have been sold out like that. And a year of barely clinging to his fucking sanity.

_ A year of telling himself it would all be worth it. _

It bubbles up beneath the surface of his mind, just as his flesh bubbles beneath his paper-thin skin. The conviction that this somehow would all end up for the better.

Is that the Korosensei of the future talking, or simply The Reaper’s  _ hubris? _

_ ‘Imagine,’  _ he thinks, watching his arm writhe indiscriminately in front of him _. ‘What you’ll be able to do when you harness these powers.’ _

Makoto sees red. And for once in his life, he can’t tell if it’s his own blood or someone else's.

Feet pace quickly. The analysis of heartless scientists and the scratching of pen against paper. The light above flickers again. And again. And again.

**_How hadn’t he lost his goddamn mind!?_ **

“Of course . . . . . Even in the darkness of . . . . . An incomprehensibly painful experience . . . . . Had . . . . . One ray of light . . . . . One companion . . . . . His teacher.”

There’s a thumping behind Makoto’s eyes, and he clenches his fist tight. No. There hadn’t been anyone else, had there?  _ Another person he’d managed to hurt? No. No! He  _ **_refuses to believe it._ **

“. . . . . Aguri Yukimura . . . . . “

Dread rises in Makoto’s gut. Instant regret, and something sticky caught between his fingers.

**_Who the fuck else had he hurt!?_ **

“. . . . . A previous teacher . . . . . At Kunugigaoka . . . . . Ninth grade teacher by day and . . . . . Lab assistant by night. Engaged to . . . . .” Makoto’s ears are ringing. He can’t make it out. Engaged to _ who?  _ Engaged to  **_who!?_ **

_ (He hears a shriek) _

“Searching for . . . . . A rock.”

A hand pressed to the glass. And golden eyes meet his.

_ How can a person look so cheerful and desperate all at once!? _

Nagisa continues to speak. But Makoto can’t make out another word. Clutching his desk as tightly as he can, he shakes his head and growls under his breath.

“Stop looking at me like that!”

_ Those kind eyes are too much for him. _

No-one hears. At least he doesn’t think so. Makoto’s not sure if he’d even spoken aloud at all. The classroom continues to bustle around him, hands raised and questions asked. Nagisa points to the blackboard, and as a light flickers uncertainly overhead, his peers continue to learn with or without him.

_ No.  _ **_No._ **

Don't worry about him. Makoto forces a smile and stares Nagisa's way. He has to hide it. Just like he had then. Hide the searing pain from the awful Yanagisawa and the all-too-empathetic Aguri. They can't see.  _ They can't see.  _ **_He can't see._ ** He'll _ never _ learn if he dares to slip up now-

...And so, he grins.

His veins burn and his head pounds and he grins. He chokes on his own blood, and he dares not meet her eyes and he grins. His skin is going to burst, and he smiles so widely he maybe convinces himself he's going to be okay.

“. . . . . The reason he became a teacher.”

Those eyes. That smile, and those soft reassurances. A laugh as light as air, and the way she covered her mouth with her hands when she giggled.

_ Gone. Gone. It’s all gone. _

Nagisa’s mouth moves. But staring at him for what feels like hours, Makoto only manages to make out four words.

“. . . . . One year to live.”

She smiles at him one last time, and his own smile disappearing, Makoto feels his skin explode.

**_He can’t fucking take it!_ **

No! _No! He’s not ready to go yet! Not because of that_ ** _bastard!_** He’d never asked for this! _He_ hadn’t been the one to screw up! He’d been _sold out!_ It _should be the boy here! Not him! Dying!_ ** _Dying!_**

“It’s simple,” he swears he hears Yanagisawa whisper. “We’ll stop his heart.”

Not if Makoto - Not if  _ Korosensei  _ has anything to say about it.

Heart pounding in his chest, louder than anything he’s ever heard, his head wretches... And on his own this time. His flesh erupts from his skin, swirling around him like a goddamn hurricane. Tentacles writhing. Legs fusing. Arms whiplike and eyes going dark. He’s petrified by and lavishes in the pain all at once.

It hurts so much he wants to scream. But when he opens his mouth and nothing dares to come out, he instead feels a manic rush as glass shatters in front of him.

_ ‘Don’t you get it!?’  _ He thinks _ ‘It’s all going to be worth it!  _ **_You’re not dying here!’_ **

Alarms blare and shrieks echo down the halls. Body malformed and DNA desecrated, Makoto flies faster than he thinks he ever has before. Explosions of blood and viscera. Panicked, desperate screams. And veins on fire as Makoto lights the world on fire around him.

“I don’t want to die!” he hears someone sob.

But Makoto. Just. Laughs.

Makoto  **_fucking laughs_ ** as he shatters support beams and gouges out eyes.

For one fleeting moment, he revels in it. Perhaps finally understands what The Reaper had stood for. His own skin lacerated and the throats of the people around him the same, the smell of blood is overwhelming.

And for once, it doesn’t feel terrifying to Makoto. It feels euphoric.

**_You’re going to be free!_ **

Every injection. Every tattered vein and on-fire limb. All going to be worth it. Because  **_finally,_ ** The Reaper can do what he was _ born to d- _

That’s when in a sea of screams, he hears _ hers.  _

Everything seems to stop.

Body writhing beyond his control... Stiff with panic, he attempts to whip around and reach out to her with malformed hands.

All he manages to catch is blood between his fingers.

And. She’s. Gone.

He doesn’t even think it through. He bolts to his feet and raises his hand. Mumbling something about how he needs to use the bathroom, he rushes out of the classroom he’s not sure exists. 

He runs for his life. Runs from himself and from the overwhelming stench of death. But knees weak, the moment he’s outside he collapses.

And clutching at the grass… Skin writhing and heart shattered, he sobs nonetheless.

Because he knows he’ll never be able to outrun this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wild chapter... Huh? Not every chapter can I say that I got to describe both 'Korosexy gate' and 'Makoto having a literal trauma induced panic attack' within the same 10k words, but here we are. I think we may have covered the full fucking spectrum of human emotion here. FHDJSHDJSK.
> 
> Sorry about the cliffhanger, but not really. Here's to hoping Makoto will be okay, but I guess you just won't know until next time I update. :3c
> 
> Taking it back a step, I both had fun with and /dreaded/ having to give details of 2.0's life. I'm somewhat of a stickler for canon details, so being given a character who has literally no canon name or nationality drove me FUCKING INSANE. That said I ultimately made him French. I dunno why, but he always gave me French vibes. Maybe because Reaper was like toting that little wine glass when he offed his father. Somehow that just feels French. Originally I was going to give him a more weird name, but when I spotted Damien on the baby names website I was using, it made me pause and remember that in common culture that name is associated with being the name of the son of the devil. With 2.0 being Reaper's not-son, I thought that was a fun little comparison to make.
> 
> In general I had to do a TON of stupid research for this chapter. Did you know that literally nothing Assassination Classroom teachers about antimatter is scientifically true? Which does NOT bode well for this dumb author when they're forced to write an overenthusiastic teacher giving an explanation of it! It took... So... SO much brainstorming to find a way to make the experimentation Reaper went through semi-realistic, and I hope it... At least passed off as believable. Thanks again to the Assassination Classroom wiki and the Simple Wikipedia pages on antimatter. They're my only hos.
> 
> Fun little anecdote from my 'study session:' A day or two after I wrote that section I wanted to make some Midnight Soup, as one does. But I quickly learned I have... Never made soup before, and had to have the friends I was in call with walk me through it. They all rightfully made fun of me for understanding rudimentary particle physics but NOT how to make microwavable soup. Fair enough, but that STINGS, man. OTL (My midnight soup turned out wonderful, for the record)
> 
> There's one thing I DIDN'T have to research, however, and that was the mad cow joke. Because THAT was pitched to me by my friend Flower. Thanks again to them for comparing Yanagisawa to cows coaxed into stepping on land mines, because that is LITERALLY the funniest thing I've ever heard. (And shout out to Hey Riddle Riddle: Where they originally heard the factoid from. It's an awesome podcast, and the sort of dynamic I can unironically see the Newtime Trio having when they're older)
> 
> Needless to say I had sooooo much fun describing the angst in this chapter. A LOT went down, and I loved picking at Makoto's psyche. The whole last section in particular is a bit I've been looking forward to for a long time, and I'm delighted to have finally been able to write it.
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were There, Right There! from Legally Blonde, In The Bedroom Down The Hall from Dear Evan Hansen (AGAIN), No Matter What from Steven Universe, and Zydrate Anatomy from REPO: The Genetic Opera.
> 
> To be truthful I dunno if the next update will be next week or the week after! Next chapter is a pretty short one, but the one after it is LONG. I suppose I could always upload next chapter in a week, then have a two week wait for the chapter after it, but I am NOT sure if next chapter is one I wanna give ya'll two weeks to simmer on, because it is INTENSE. I guess we'll just have to see haha.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! And let me know what you thought! Seeya soon! o/


	22. Through The Glass Time

When Makoto bolts out in a panic, Nagisa feels his heart stop.

Because he’d thought the lesson had been going well. He really had. 

Makoto had seemed relatively calm throughout the whole thing. He’d fidgeted nervously, sure. But never once on his face had he shown the indication that he was about to  _ panic. _

_ (Or had he? Perhaps Nagisa had just missed the signs once more. A moment’s glance away... Enough to entirely miss a cry for help.) _

The class is staring at the doorway, bewildered by the way Makoto had left. He’d made an excuse of it, sure. But… A flimsy one, at best. Suddenly looking ready to cry, he’d stormed out of the room before any of them could even begin to process it. Something tells Nagisa that’s a little more serious than having to use the bathroom.

It makes him freeze up, lost for what to do. He can’t just continue with the lesson, can he? He was doing this  _ for  _ Makoto. Even so, he’s terrified of making a scene if he follows after.

Would Makoto really want the attention  _ now _ of all times? He’s the sort of person who  _ hates _ to indicate that he’s struggling. If Nagisa pauses class for the second time this month to follow him, his classmates are going to know for certain that something’s wrong.

Yoshito stares at Nagisa blankly, as if saying ‘See? You  _ will  _ do anything for him.’

The question of  _ ‘What about the rest of us?’  _ lingers in the air.

Nagisa sighs and shakes his head. He won’t be pressured. Not now of all times. He can’t afford it. He doesn’t care if the other students interpret it as favoritism. It’s _ not.  _ It’s protecting Makoto like he would anyone else. He takes a deep breath, and accepts that Makoto may resent him a bit for the attention brought. But he can handle that if it means helping him when he most needs it.

...When he’s no doubt remembering things too heavy for any child -  _ Any person _ \- to bear.

Plus… Hey. Nagisa’s left with the nagging, empty suspicion that Makoto will hate him a little for helping him bring those memories to light either way.

_...Ha ha. _

He steps out from behind his desk, looking over the classroom. But when he opens his mouth to speak, Kiyoshi beats him to it.

“I… Uh… Need to use the bathroom too,” he awkwardly says, hurrying to his feet. “Do you... mind if I excuse myself?”

Nagisa stares. And Kiyoshi stares back with wide, pleading eyes.

Fumiko follows his lead. Standing, she says. “...Er. Me as well.”

Fiddling with her scarf, she sends a nervous glance towards the doorway.

...What they ask is more than obvious.

_ ‘Please. Let us fix this.’ _

And Nagisa hesitates. Can he really trust them with this? This isn’t something for kids to handle. This is adult business, and the extremely dire sort, at that. Perhaps it’s better if he handles this himself. He  _ knows _ that.

And even so, Kiyoshi and Fumiko make a silent plea. He can’t help but imagine the grief-stricken worry they feel right now is no different from his own.

Perhaps… just perhaps, they can get through to Makoto in a way even he can’t.

He’s… Sure Makoto loves and trusts him plenty. Just like he’d trusted Korosensei. But all those years ago, there had been some things only his friends his age had managed to get through to him on.

This could very well be one of those situations.

It makes his heart ache to admit it. But perhaps just this once 'Nagisa' won’t be good enough. He has an unruly class to watch over. And nothing much more he could say to Makoto than he’s already said a thousand times.

...He wants to be able to entrust this to them. To show Makoto that he doesn’t just have people from ‘back then’ supporting him, but brand new friends from ‘the now’ who have his back.

...That settles it.

“Very well,” he says. “You can go. Just… Be careful, okay?”

Fumiko and Kiyoshi don’t need to hear that twice. They scramble out of their seats and follow after Makoto.

The class remains silent. But quickly, Nagisa calls to their attention.

And hoping he hasn’t made some grave mistake, he speaks up in a shaky voice.

“Where were we?”

* * *

 

Fumiko swears her heart shatters in her chest every time she sees Makoto look hopeless.

And it seems more and more often lately, he does.

...She hates every part of this.

Awkwardly following after Kiyoshi, there’s a stilted tenseness to the air.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he whispers. “Follow me, I mean. You genuinely seemed to be enjoying Shiota-sensei’s lesson. I… I could have taken care of this.”

She shakes her head. “The lesson doesn’t matter anymore. This is more important.”

Kiyoshi bites his lip, but nods in agreement. “...Yeah. It is.”

They hurry down the hallway. But Makoto’s nowhere in sight. The aged wooden floorboards creaking under Fumiko’s feet, she frowns.

...The more she thinks about it, the more certain she is there’s nothing she could possibly learn from Nagisa that she already couldn’t learn from the real Korosensei.

From…

“I don’t doubt it anymore,” she says. “Not even a little. He… He really is…”

“Yeah,” Kiyoshi says. “I mean… I guess I believed him for a while. But seeing him look so terrified… That might be the scaredest I’ve ever seen him.”

“I can’t imagine what he’s feeling right now,” Fumiko admits.

“Me neither,” Kiyoshi mumbles.

The way Nagisa had described it was… Horrifying. What Korosensei had gone through. She’d always figured it was some kind of secret government experiment, but not like _ that.  _ Isolated… _ Mistreated _ for months on end.

Her heart can’t possibly fathom Makoto enduring that sort of loneliness.

“He could have gone anywhere,” Kiyoshi worriedly murmurs. “I didn’t see which way he went. Can you check outside?” he asks. “I’ll look in the teachers’ lounge. If he’s not there, we can patrol the forest.”

Fumiko nods. “Sounds good. Let… Let me know if you find him.”

“Of course,” Kiyoshi says. “And you too. If you see him, just call out for me.”

With that decided, they quickly split up. Kiyoshi turns towards the teachers’ lounge, and Fumiko makes her way across the long hallway that spans the school.

Every step feels heavy. But she wastes no time. She arrives at the door and briefly considers sticking her head out before deciding against it. If he’s out there, she doesn’t want to scare him away. Instead, she steps over towards one of the massive glass windows, and presses her face to the pane.

At first, she sees nothing. Simply the sway of dying Autumn trees and the worn dirt pathway snaking up towards the school. It’s only when she catches the faint sound of sobbing that she sees something at the bottom of her peripheral vision. 

...Black hair.

Makoto has himself pressed up against the edge of the building. Softly quivering, he huddles, crouched, against the outside wall and weeps.

Stunned, all Fumiko can do is watch him for one moment. Out there across the glass, he looks so…. _So…_ _Defenseless._

She quickly shakes herself from her stupor. She lowers her voice and shouts down the hallway.

“I found him. Come on.”

Kiyoshi hurries out of the teachers’ lounge and makes his way to her side. She points at the glass, to which he simply squints.

“Huh? Where is h… Oh.”

His expression quickly falls.

“Let’s hurry,” Fumiko says, gently pushing open the door. She motions for Kiyoshi to follow her lead.

Makoto doesn't react, even as the door creaks. Instead, with a wild, panicked look on his face, he continues to keep staring off into space.

Fumiko and Kiyoshi quietly approach him, creeping into his line of sight, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Tears spilling down his cheeks, he wipes desperately at his eyes with one hand and scratches at his skin with the other.

...He looks close to bleeding.

They waste no time. Kiyoshi gets to his knees, meeting Makoto’s eyes. And when Makoto doesn’t dare return the contact, Fumiko follows, holding a gentle hand out.

“Makoto,” she says firmly. “It’s okay. We’re here.”

He just doesn’t hear them. Tearing at his skin, he rocks himself back and forth and whimpers.

“Makoto,” Kiyoshi repeats softly. “You need to stop. It’s over now. You’re safe.”

He reaches out to grab for Makoto’s hand. But the moment he takes it to guide it away from his skin, Makoto tears his arm away with a sob.

Fumiko thinks she might feel the most helpless she’s ever been. And… she’s experienced a lot of helplessness in her life. From her parents and from situations she’s put herself into both. But nothing like  _ this.  _ Nothing like not being able to get through to  _ him. _

They may both be outside now, the all-too-gentle autumn breeze caressing their faces. But even now, by his side, it still feels like there’s a wall between them.

_...What can she possibly do? _

She wants to help. She  _ needs  _ to help. She hates feeling helpless. She  _ hates  _ feeling useless. And she  **_hates_ ** leaving him to hurt alone. That’s her best friend, and he’s scared for his life! There has to be something she can do… To let him know she’s by his side… To make him see her… To  _ reach out and touch him, even through that invisible wall. _

Remembering the way Kiyoshi had held her when she’d wept the same in his home… The relief she’d felt... And the desperation she’s had in her heart to let Makoto know ‘I’m here for you’ ever since the day she first let him into her life.

...It overtakes her. And before she even knows what she’s doing, she has him engulfed in a hug.

One hand clinging desperately to his shoulder, and the other cupped to his cheek, she pulls him in tight. And with every aspect of her being, she tries to cry out:

_ ‘Please. Let me in, too.’ _

Before she can even speak, however, Makoto whirls around. And she’s tossed from him with a strength she didn’t even know he had.

She’s thrown to the ground beside him as he tears himself away. And staring at her with a  _ complete and utter terror _ she doesn’t ever think she’s in him welling in his eyes, he shrieks at the top of his lungs:

**_“Stay away from me!”_ **

Fumiko yelps in shock as she hits the dirt. And she swears she catches Kiyoshi yell, too. But the moment he opens his mouth to ask if she’s alright, Makoto rushes to her side, seemingly shocked out of his stupor. 

“Fumiko!” he cries, reaching out for her. “A-Are you okay!? I… I didn’t mean to hurt you! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I didn’t  _ want  _ to hurt you!” he rambles near-incoherently. And in an instant, he’s sobbing again. One hand shakily covering his face and the other clutching Fumiko’s arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m  **_so sorry-”_ **

“Hey-! Hey! No! No-one’s hurt” Fumiko awkwardly reassures, pushing herself up onto her knees. “You just scared me,” she says. “I’m fine.”

In the back of her mind she’s acutely aware she may have stained her skirt, but that’s the least of her concerns right now. Even if… The reaction that could potentially earn from her parents is petrifying, Makoto needs her right now.

...He hadn’t meant to do it.

She repeats herself, voice lowering each time. “I’m fine,” she says, softer and softer. 

But sobbing, unconsolable, Makoto stares through her and whispers “...I don’t wanna hurt anyone. _Please._ _Make it stop. Make it stop-”_

His voice is desperate. Quivering. And as he sobs into his hands, begging for release, his shoulders fall and rise with the weight of his breaths.

Kiyoshi hurries to his side. Careful not to place a hand on Makoto, he simply sits by him and reassures in a gentle tone. “No-one’s hurt. No-one’s hurt, Makoto. You’re not there. You’re here. With us. You aren’t going to hurt anyone, and no-one’s going to hurt you.” He scoots an inch closer. “We’re sorry we scared you. We won’t touch you again, okay? Please just hear us out. We’re here to help. We’re worried about you.”

Makoto shakes his head, lip quivering helplessly. “...It hurts. _ It hurts.”  _ he whimpers. “I’m bad. I’m bad, and it hurts because I deserve it-”

“No. You don’t,” Kiyoshi firmly reassures. “You don’t deserve it. What happened to you in that place was unfair. Me and Fumiko were very upset having to hear about it.”

Fumiko nods. “...We’d never want you to go through something like that, Makoto. You’re our  _ best friend.  _ It really upset us when we saw you so panicked.”

“I’m sorry…” Makoto whimpers. “I… I didn’t mean to. I don’t wanna make you sad--” His voice cracks. “I don’t wanna hurt you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to stop--”

Fumiko frowns. “Wait, no. There’s no need to apologize. We just want to help you, Makoto-”

“I don’t know if you can…” he breathlessly whimpers. “I’m bad… A… And I hurt everything around me. Y… You’re not safe here, and you need to go, and that’s why it hurts.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Fumiko says. And Makoto seems to tense. She wonders if she’d made a mistake, but quickly attempts to shake the unease off. “...Right, Kiyoshi? We’re here to stay?”

Kiyoshi nods slowly. “We’re here to stay.”

Makoto whimpers helplessly and presses himself up further against the wall.

“You’re not going to hurt us. And no-one’s going to hurt you,” Kiyoshi repeats. “You’re safe.”

“It burns…” Makoto whines, reaching out to scratch for his arm again.

“Hey. No,” Kiyoshi says, blocking his hand with his palm. “What burns? The antimatter?”

Makoto nods as he breathes in a deep sniffle. “...It hurt so bad. A… And I can feel it. I can feel it now. I can feel what it felt like for me… And it..  _ It…-”  _ he doesn’t manage to finish his sentence. Instead, choked up, he incoherently sputters for words. “It… Bad…  **_So bad.”_ **

“I know, Makoto,” Kiyoshi says. “...I’m sure it must hurt a whole lot. But it’s not real, okay? You’re not in that lab. You’re not with that guy. You’re at Constellate, remember? And you’re far away from anyone who can do that to you.”

Makoto doesn’t respond.

“Can you repeat that for me?” Kiyoshi asks. “I think it’ll help.”

“I… I’m not there,” Makoto whispers. “I’m not with that guy. I’m… At Constellate. A… And… I’m far away from anyone who can… Who can…” his voice turns breathless again. “Do that… Do that to me-”

“You are. I promise,” Kiyoshi says. 

How he manages to keep his voice so patient is beyond Fumiko. To be truthful, she doesn’t give Kiyoshi a lot of credit sometimes. But here, where she doesn’t even know where to begin he seems to have it so under control. For a guy who panics so easily, he sure is able to calm himself down when he thinks there’s something important on the line.

“Can you do something else for me, Makoto? Something else I think will really help?”

Makoto just whimpers.

“Please? I want to help you.”

“...I don’t deserve it,” Makoto whispers.

“Yes. You do. You’ve helped me so many times before. So please just let me help you, Makoto.”

_ “Whatdoyouwantmetodo?” _

“I want you to listen to the birds.”

Makoto pauses, looking genuinely confused. “...What?”

“The birds. In the forest by the school. Do you hear them? All I want you to do is listen to them. Let me know when you hear them.”

Makoto’s silent. Shuffling uncomfortably, with tears still streaming down his face, he reaches to scratch at his hand. But after a moment’s passed, he slowly nods.

“I… Hear them,” he says softly. “I… I hear the birds.”

“Okay. Good,” Kiyoshi replies. “There were no birds there, right? In the place where he hurt you?”

Makoto nods slowly. “There were no birds.”

“That’s right,” Kiyoshi says. “Now can you do something else for me? I want you to focus on the grass.”

“The grass?” Makoto asks.

“You’re sitting on the grass, right?” Kiyoshi asks. “I want you to focus on how it feels in between your fingers. Is it soft, or is it dry? Do you feel any dew? What about the dirt underneath?”

Carefully, Makoto flexes his palm. Eyes flickering to look at the ground, his mouth falls open.

“It’s… Dry,” he says. “I… Feel it. It’s dry.” He breathes in deeply. “There’s no dew. And the dirt is firm. Because… It’s Fall. And… and the grass is drying up.”

“That’s right,” Kiyoshi says. “You can feel the grass. And there wouldn’t have been any grass in the lab, right?”

Makoto gives a shaky nod. “...Yeah. There wouldn’t have been any grass in the lab.” He frowns. “It… It was blank. And white. And all steel.” His breath hastens. “It- It- It wasn’t like this. It was bad-”

“I know,” Kiyoshi reassures in a soothing voice. “But don’t think about the lab. You’re not there. Redirect your thoughts.”

Makoto nods once more.

“I want you to look at us, Makoto. Can you do that? Focus on our faces. Tell me what you see.”

Makoto’s watery eyes drift their way. First meeting Kiyoshi’s gaze, then turning to Fumiko. For a moment, it feels he’s staring through her, but as he takes a deep, shaky, breath, recognition seems to return to his eyes.

“You’re… You’re my friends,” he says. “And you’re worried about me. And… You’re here for me.  _ You’re here for me.” _

“That’s right,” Kiyoshi says. “We’re right here beside you. And we wouldn’t be if you were still in the lab, right? We weren’t there, were we?”

“No,” Makoto says. “You weren’t there.” And despite his tears, he gives a halfhearted giggle. “You weren’t born yet.”

“Yeah. We weren’t,” Kiyoshi reaffirms. “You’re safe. You’re right here with us.”

“I’m safe,” Makoto repeats. “I’m right here with you.”

Slowly but surely, he’s managing to catch his breath.

“That helps, doesn’t it?” Kiyoshi says. “Now I just want you to do that again, this time without my help. Can you please tell me five things you can hear, five things you can feel, and five things you can see. Just keep taking deep breaths and let me know. Take your time.”

Carefully, Makoto begins to describe his surroundings. The faint blow of the breeze, and the soft chitter of crickets coming from the forest. The way a leaf drifts down to land in his hair. For just one moment, he’s lost again: describing a flickering light or blank white walls. Fire in his veins. But just as soon as he does, he’s shaking his head.

“No,” he says. “That’s… Not real. I don’t see that. I see…” He looks up. “The clouds in the sky.”

“That’s right,” Kiyoshi says again and again. “That’s right.”

As Makoto carefully follows his instructions, Fumiko notes that he’s doing the exact same thing he’d done for her when she was panicked. Those anxiety calming tactics. For all his anxieties, Kiyoshi really is an emotionally intelligent person.

It’s funny. During the lesson yesterday, Nagisa had described The Reaper as having a way with words. And not in the poetic way. He was a master manipulator. One word, and he’d manage to get under your skin. Into your psyche. A truly scary person.

But watching Makoto cling to Kiyoshi’s every word, follow his every instruction… She wonders if a way with words always has to be a bad thing.

After all, it seems someone is putting  _ The Reaper _ under _ their  _ spell instead of the other way around for a change.

In due time, much like he had Fumiko’s, Kiyoshi manages to dry Makoto’s tears. And for just one moment, she wonders if he was right in saying that she hadn’t needed to follow him.

...It seems he’s got this under control after all. 

_ (What if they  _ **_don’t_ ** _ need her?) _

She quickly shakes the thought.

“Do you feel better?” Kiyoshi asks softly.

“A little,” Makoto admits.

“...Do you still want to talk about it? Now that you’re calm?”

“I’d… like that,” Makoto replies.

“Okay then,” Kiyoshi says. “...Just let us know what’s bothering you. If it ever starts to get overwhelming, just repeat what I told you. But you’re safe with us. You can talk about it.”

Fumiko nods, tacking on her own pointless “We’re here for you.”

“I… Just…” Makoto pauses, thinking over his words. “...I really thought I was ready to learn about everything that happened to Korosensei. I told Nagisa to tell me  _ everything.  _ And… I was handling it well. At least… I think I was. Even the murderer stuff. But up until now… I didn’t know anything about how Korosensei became that way. It was really scary.”

“I can imagine,” Kiyoshi says.

“It’s like… I was back there. He described it, and I swore it was happening. That… That… I was that person again. And that there was nothing I could do to save myself.” He shuffles uncomfortably. “It hurt. Really really bad. Like… Nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

“The things Shiota-sensei described… Sounded awful,” Kiyoshi admits. “I’m sure it did really hurt.”

“Like… Like I was being destroyed from the inside out,” Makoto describes. “This horrible burning pain and… And my body not listening to me. Nagisa called them tentacles, I think… But…” He shakes his head. “They weren’t like my Korosensei tentacles. They were really grotesque. I felt like… I was being ripped apart. And that… Even though the bad man did that to me, it was still my fault it was happening. Because… I’d done the things to get myself arrested. And he didn’t tell my body to do that. It just did it. All on it’s own.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Kiyoshi reassures. “No-one deserves to have that happen to them.”

“I hurt-”

“It doesn’t matter how many people you hurt, Makoto. That’s just cruel and usual. No-one, and I mean  _ no-one, _ should have to go through that. Ever.”

Makoto gives a reluctant nod. “Mmm.”

There’s another moment of silence, before he speaks up in a quiet voice.

“Is it bad… That I think it’s going to happen again?”

“...The Antimatter stuff?”

“I dunno…  _ Everything,” _ Makoto says. “I  _ guess  _ all of that… But… Me hurting people, too. ‘m not sure what part in the story Nagisa got to before I left. But…” He shakes his head. “I hurt a lot of people. A lot of  _ good _ people. I wouldn’t blame anyone for being mad at me. What if… What if that guy comes looking for me?”

Fumiko attempts to interject. “Makoto. He won’-” 

“But what if he does!? I  _ know  _ it’s stupid, but I’m so scared of ever feeling that way again. And… He loved doing that to me. He enjoyed hurting me. What if… He… He hunts me down? And he finds me? A… And he wants to know the truth about me, so he can make me pay?” His breaths quicken. “W… W… What if he’s right? What if I deserve it? What if  _ I’m supposed to always feel that way because I enjoyed hurting people too-?” _

He’s starting to cry again. Little trails of tears snaking down his cheeks. Clawing at the dirt, he clings tight to the grass.

“No,” Kiyoshi says. “You don’t deserve it, Makoto. No matter who you were, you don’t deserve that. You haven’t done anything now. That’s why…” He clenches his fist. “No matter what happens, no matter who comes for you… I promise I’ll protect you!”

Makoto stares.

“...What?”

“If… If that guy, or anyone else ever wants to lay a hand on you, I won’t let them. Even if I’m scared… Or worried… Or don’t know what to do, I’ll find a way to protect you. Because you’re my friend. And I couldn’t bear to see anything happen to you. I’ll keep you safe.”

Makoto sniffles, eyes watery. “...You will?”

“I promise.”

For one beautiful moment, they sit in the comfort of one another. That’s when Fumiko bursts into laughter.

She doesn’t mean to. But covering her mouth with her hands, she just barely holds back a snicker.

_ “W-What!?” _ Kiyoshi sputters.  _ “What’s so funny!? Do you think I can’t protect him!? I - I know I’m a bit of a wimp, but-!” _

“No! It’s not that!” Fumiko reassures through another laugh. She feels awful laughing in the face of the fact that Makoto was just crying, but... “He’s  _ dead, _ Kiyoshi!”

“M-Me!?” Makoto asks.

“No! Yanagisawa!” Fumiko says. “I’m not sure if you caught it, but Shiota-sensei was speaking about him in the past tense the entire time. He’s been dead for, like… What? 14 years? He can’t hurt you because he’s  _ gone.” _ Giving one last giggle in response to Kiyoshi’s foolishness, she turns to Makoto. 

“He’s right about one thing, though. You’re safe. He’s long gone. Everyone who was involved in that incident back then must be, by now. It’s okay. No-one can hurt you ever again.”

Makoto sniffles, but gives her a nod. She can only hope she’d reassured him, even a little. 

“...Just my luck that the first guy I agreed to stand up to is a corpse,” Kiyoshi admits with a laugh. “‘Cause that’s just about the only thing I could actually win a fight against.”

Makoto lets out a laugh at the notion as well. “Hey! Be nice to yourself, will you!?” he says with a goofy smile despite having to stifle another sniffle.

“Hey! He’s being plenty nice,” Fumiko says. “Think about it this way: When the zombie apocalypse comes and people start rising from the dead, Kiyoshi’s got you covered.”

“H-Hey! Well I never agreed to that!” Kiyoshi yelps. “That sounds nasty! A-And the zombie apocalypse is never going to happen, anyways!”

“You don’t sound so certain,” Fumiko jeers.

“That’s my fear of literally everything on this planet and also that really creepy zombie movie my mom let me watch when I was eight speaking over my ability to sound rational. Please ignore the braincell always focused on the worst case scenario behind the curtain.”

“Can d-”

“Am I a zombie?” 

Fumiko and Kiyoshi both stare at Makoto.

“‘Scuse me?” Kiyoshi asks.

“Am _ I  _ a zombie?” Makoto blankly repeats. 

“N-No?” Kiyoshi replies. “At least I don’t think you’d qualify a-”

“No! No! Like… Hear me out:” Makoto says. “I’m back from the dead… I at one point had regenerating superpowers… Everything hurts ever…-”

“Dumb as a brick,” Fumiko ever-helpfully adds on.

“H-Hey! N- N- I mean-  _ I guess!?” _ Makoto relents. “But that’s still  _ very  _ mean!”

Kiyoshi rubs his chin. “I mean… I still don’t think you’d qualify as a  _ zombie.  _ If anything you fall more under the criteria of a Christlike figure.”

“Excuse me!?” Fumiko wheezes. “You wanna repeat that, Kiyoshi!? A  _ Christlike figure!?” _

Kiyoshi’s face flushes pink. “I-I’m not saying - You get what I mean! - He just! The qualifications of his return from the dead share more similarities with those in Western theology than with, say, Church Creed.”

“...Church Creed?”

Kiyoshi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Pet Sematary refere-” but quickly shakes his head. “Whatever. I’m not sure why I expected you to get that one.”

Their giggles receding, the three of them fall quiet.

“I did mean that, though,” Kiyoshi admits. “Even if that guy’s gone… If there’s anyone else out there who ever wants to hurt you, I won’t let them. And… We won’t let you hurt yourself, either. If you’re scared you’re ever gonna make decisions that will let you become that person again… Then… Just let us know. We’ll be here for you. We’ll prevent that.”

Fumiko’s not sure when this turned into a ‘we’ thing, but she can’t find it in herself to disagree. Kiyoshi’s right. They’ll protect Makoto. The both of them. 

It makes her feel good to think she’s needed. That Makoto needs _ her _ and not just Kiyoshi. After watching everything Kiyoshi just did for Makoto, she’s not entirely sure that’s the truth, but it’s nice to let herself pretend she’s a necessity for once.

“We promise.”

Finally, they manage to help Makoto back up. But as they pull him by the hand and onto his feet, he frowns, and mumbles if he can ask them for one more thing.

“Of course,” Kiyoshi says. “Anything.”

“...Please don’t get yourself hurt protecting me,” he says, voice soft. “I know you really care about me, and I appreciate that. But… If there really did come to be a situation where I was in danger, or where I  _ was  _ the danger… I don’t want to see you guys get hurt.” Biting his lip, he says, “I don’t think I could bear to lose you, either.”

And for just one moment, Fumiko swears she sees him staring through them again.

_ Just what on earth had happened to him? _

Kiyoshi’s taken aback. But quickly, he nods. “Of course, Makoto. Don’t even worry about that. We’ll be safe.”

Makoto’s eyes flitter to Fumiko. “...And you too, Fumiko?”

“Mmmm,” she says. “We won’t do anything rash.”

Somehow, she’s not sure if she means it. And for the first time in her life she wonders if she’s finally found a set of people who she’d choose to protect over _ anyone. _

_ Choose to protect over herself. _

...If it came down to it, what  _ would _ she do?

She hopes she never has to worry about it.

“Alright,” Makoto says. “I’m… Gonna hold you to that, okay? If... If you die, I'll kill you! I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. You’re my best friends. If you’re going to protect me, let me protect you, too.”

“Of course,” Fumiko says, and hopes she means it. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They turn their heads back towards the school building. The elephant in the room (Or… More like ten elephants, for that matter) out of the way, that only leaves one thing for them to discuss. 

“...Do you think you’re gonna be able to go back to class, Makoto?” Kiyoshi asks. “You got  _ super _ stressed in there. If you think you’re gonna panic again, maybe it’s for the best you don’t-”

Makoto shakes his head. “...I gotta go back,” he says. “It wouldn’t be fair to Nagisa to make him tell this story twice. I’m sure it hurts his heart, too. It would be selfish of me to ask him to share it, only to back out. I told him I want to know the truth. And I do. It’s scary, but I’m not going to back down on that.”

“Are you sure?” Kiyoshi asks.

“Certain,” Makoto reassures. “I can’t run away from this. I mean… Where else would I even go? We can’t sit out here all day, guys.”

Fumiko mulls it over. “...We could always ‘skip.’”

Makoto gasps softly. “No way! I am  _ not _ skipping school!” He shakes his head in disbelief. “When did you turn into a little delinquent!?”

Kiyoshi snorts. _ “Someone’s _ been spending too much time around Akabane-san.”

Fumiko rolls her eyes. “Don’t liken me to him,” she says. “I just thought it was an option worth putting out there. I wouldn’t particularly like it either… But… if you felt you needed it, I’m sure the both of us would be willing to break the rules for just one day.”

Makoto sniffles. “...That means a lot, guys,” he admits with a tiny smile. “But I stand by what I said. I wanna hear the rest of the story. If I go away now, I don’t think I’ll ever have the heart to ask Nagisa for the rest.” He takes a step towards the school building. “...’m ready now. And I feel a lot safer now that I know I have you two by my side.”

“I’m… Honored to hear it,” Kiyoshi says, returning a smile of his own

Makoto walks up to the school building. But just before he reaches out for the door, he pauses. He turns his head back towards Fumiko.

“Wait. One more one-more-thing. Before I’m ready.”

Fumiko blinks. “What is it?”

And before she can even process what’s rushing at her, Makoto has her pulled into a hug.

She stiffens, letting out a tiny yelp.

“I’m sorry. About earlier,” he says. “...I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. Not when you were just trying to show you cared about me.”

Slowly Fumiko’s posture relaxes. She quietly shakes her head. “No. I’m sorry for touching you without your permission. That was unwarranted. I don’t know what came over me.”

“...It’s not like that,” Makoto reassures, giving her a squeeze. “It was just… A bad time. It reminded me of something that happened back there… And…” He pauses. “Well. It scared me. But you didn’t do anything wrong. In fact… Now that I’ve come to my senses: I’m actually sorta thrilled!” He lets out a tiny laugh. “I’ve been trying to get you to hug me all year!”

“You… Have?” she asks.

“I mean, yeah! Kiyoshi’s all sorts of gooey, but you’re more ‘withdrawn,’ and ‘don’t like to be touched.’ It makes me happy. To think you’d feel comfortable around me like that.”

That’s all it takes. Fumiko’s posture goes from relaxed to limp as she collapses into his hug. She wraps her arms around him and squeezes as tight as she can.

“...’m sorry it couldn’t have been under better circumstances.”

“Hey. It’s okay,” Makoto says. “At least we have now.”

It’s only after what feels like forever that Makoto finally pulls away from her. He turns to Kiyoshi and wraps him in a massive hug of his own, lifting him up into the air and shouting “C’mere! Big guy!” 

But even as they head inside, Fumiko just can’t seem to get her mind off of it. Just… What  _ had _ happened back there? What had Makoto been through that she still doesn’t know about?

Who had he hurt so badly that he’s so scared of hurting his own friends?

Even as they return to class, only to see Nagisa’s relieved expression, and even as they make it through the rest of the day… Holding Makoto’s hand under the table and beckoning him to rejoin them in PE… She still can’t shake it. What she’d seen in his eyes when he’d thrown her from him.

It haunts her. Because even the crying Makoto who’d crawled in her window one May evening had never quite looked like that.

_ Completely. Utterly. Anguished. _

The rest of the day continues as normal. Makoto manages to to make it through the lessons. And Nagisa assures them all it’s only going to get better from here.

“This is the part where Korosensei’s story gets happy,” He says. “The worst of the worst is over. It can only go up from here.”

...Just how low had his lowest low been? What part of the story had she missed while she’d been out consoling Makoto?

What part of him can she still not reach out to? Not mend?

The thought follows her as she walks home. As she chats with Kiyoshi and as she makes her way in through the door. As she robotically greets her mother and acknowledges her father. As she eats dinner that night. As she brushes her teeth, and as she gets into bed. As she texts her friends goodnight, and rolls over on her pillow. Once, then twice.

...The gnawing feeling that she’s still somehow forgetting an important detail. That she still doesn’t fully understand Makoto. Not yet.

Not when she’d seen that part of him. That terrified,  _ inconsolable  _ person hiding deep within the boy who’d only been trying to get her to hug him all year.

It’s an itch she can't scratch. Someone she thinks she’s never seen before. Never met. Never faced. The Makoto who cries out in desolation, and collapses to the ground, body heaving with his sobs.

The Makoto who had lost something so, so important.

...At least that’s what she thinks until she sees that same Makoto in her dreams.

Writhing. Bloodied. Taller now, and choking back a sob. He looks so… So different. With his skin torn and the way he looms above her. But she knows him. She’d know him anywhere. In any form. As any person.

...Know the way he’s reaching out for her.

Sobbing. Begging. Demanding her to tell him it’s anything except this.

It hurts. So bad. To feel the ache in her gut, and to see him look at her that way. That awful, petrified way as he crawls towards her on his knees, and slowly lifts her up to meet his eyes.

...Those eyes with the same horrified, anguished, and  _ utterly broken _ look in them as he’d stared at her with earlier today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 22 is HERE, baybe! I decided to let this one only have a one week wait and let next chapter have a two week wait. Give you some time to simmer on this one.
> 
> And WHAT a chapter to simmer on.
> 
> Okay. Yeah. The cat’s out of the bag. There’s a plot twist I’ve been scheming since I very first conceptualized this fic, and it’s what was revealed at the very end of this chapter. It feels so, so satisfying to finally get to, and I hope you’re all a little stunned, too.
> 
> As for the actual meta behind this twist and all though I think I’m going to leave that for next chapter. We’ve still yet to see how Fumiko herself is going to react to this revelation, after all! :3c.
> 
> Taking a step back from… All of that, I had a ton of fun writing the rest of this chapter. Peppering it with foreshadowing and generally writing some of that good good hurt/comfort. After how much of a painfest last chapter was, it was nice to give Makoto some resolution and let him know that his friends are there for him.
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were Waste by Foster The People, Here Comes A Thought from Steven Universe, and Small Hands by Radical Face, which in particular really gets to me.
> 
> “If you need come build your home in me  
> And you know I won't complain  
> And I can't fix what was done to you  
> But I'll shield you from the rain  
> And if the walls they build become too high  
> Then step up on my back and climb  
> 'Cause I never mind  
> No matter the day or time  
> I never mind”
> 
> ...😭
> 
> Next chapter will be a two week wait, so try not to hate me TOO much for leaving you off on that reveal for a little bit! Let me know what you thought, and see you soon! o/


	23. Way Home Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two things to say real quick before this chapter!
> 
> A) Hey. Quick trigger warning for a small description of verbal and physical domestic abuse in this chapter. You know how it is. This is Assclass. It was just revealed that Aguri is still around and has some uhhhhh maybe not so great things to remember. I am going to beat Yanagisawa to death with a rock.
> 
> B) The l-word gets a brief mention in this chapter. And no, NOT lesbians. (I would NOT be warning you if the word was lesbians. I am a fearless lesbian.) It's love. But as a note I would just like to reassure you not to fear, and that this is not going to turn into a shipping focused story or one where any characters are strangled by the red string of fate because of past lives. Characters are certainly unpacking complicated feelings, so please trust me to not just turn that into mushy mumbo-jumbo. (This is discussed more in the ending A/N, but I figured I'd mention it now as not to scare anyone away)

_“Hey. Can I ask you a kinda dumb question?”_

_She sits with her back to the wall. She can’t see him, but she knows he’s looking right at her._

_“I don’t see why not.” His voice is thoughtful, and cool as ice. It’s funny how much he makes her think._

_“What do you think I’d be like?”_

_“...Pardon?”_

_“In another world. Where I’m a different person.”_

_“Is this the same one where I’m stubborn and goofy?” He says it like he’s making fun of her. But even all the same, she can hear the smile in his voice._

_“...Yeah. Sure,” she says. “...Maybe one where I grew up like you did.”_

_His voice grows serious. “You don’t want that.”_

_“I know. But just… Like… Theoretically.”_

_“Well… You’d have to learn to hide yourself,” he muses. “...In a world like that, you don’t get to be ‘smart and a little perverted.’ You very quickly adapt to-”_

_“Hey! You calling me perverted?”_

_She elbows the glass, and he yelps. She turns her head his way and spots him sporting a bewildered, almost like he thinks she’s actually mad at him. But when he hears her giggle, his shoulders relax._

_“N… No,” he mutters through his fingers with that bashfulness he seems to have more and more of as of late. “Of course not. I… Was simply repeating what you’d said about myself earlier. You seem to think we’re kindred spirits.”_

_She interlocks her fingers and hums, then turns her head away from him. “Maybe so,” she says. “But go on. I’m sorry for interrupting.”_

_“You… very quickly adapt to the cold around you. So I suppose you’d learn to be cold as well. Terrified of what could happen if you made one simple slip up. After all… It could mean the end of your livelihood. You’d be icy, and no-nonsense. A good actor. Perfect at everything you do. Haughty, and perhaps a tad scary. But even so…” He drifts off._

_“...Hm?”_

_“I can’t see you changing that much. Even in a world like that, I like to think you’d still be you.”_

_“Me?” she asks._

_“Well… Someone who never gives up on people. With a kind heart deep down. No matter what you’d go through, I just can’t see someone managing to take that from you.”_

_A smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “...Wow. You must think I’m really strong.”_

_“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” he grumbles._

_“...Maybe in that world, I can open up to you. Like… You’ve opened up to me.”_

_“Again: I’m not sure I’d give you that much credit, lady. And besides. It’s nothing worth thinking about, anyways.”_

_“Huh? Why?”_

_“Because… You’ve got a long life ahead of you. There’s no need to think about who else you’d be. I quite like you the way you are.”_

_“...You do?”_

_He shrugs. “Enough.”_

_And despite herself, she catches herself grinning. Covering her face with her hands, she’s suddenly glad they sit back to back. She’d be in a world of humiliation if he caught the blush creeping up her cheeks._

_It lingers on the tip of her tongue. What she’s wanted to say ever since she met the man._

_Instead, she simply shakes her head and says,_

_“Well, whoever you’d be, I think I quite like who you are now as well.”_

* * *

Fumiko turns over in her sleep.

* * *

_“You need to stop getting attached to it.”_

_“I’m not attached to him.”_

_“Really? Because_ **_I_ ** _was starting to get the impression that-”_

_“I’m just doing the job you assigned me,” she says calmly._

_She hates the way he raises his voice at her. It reminds her of her parents._

_...Her parents? Wait. No. What is she thinking about? Her parents never-_

_...Where_ **_is_ ** _she?_

_The light is flickering overhead._

_“Don’t you interrupt me, woman! You think you can do_ **_anything_ ** _now because of him. But don’t you forget your place. If you keep this up I’m going to need to tell your father._ **_Or_ ** _I could always remove you from supervising the test subject entirely.”_

_“N-No! I’m sorry,” she says, feeling panic rise in her gut. She bows her head in the same way she has a thousand times before. “You’re right. I’m… I’m forgetting my priorities. But I swear I can handle this. Please. Give me one more chance.”_

_“Maybe I’ll consider it if you finally kick his dick out of your mouth. I knew you were a cheating slut, but this is a new low.”_

_“I’m - He’s not-” her voice falters. She doesn’t dare mention all the times she’s caught him with his hand on another woman's ass. She’d learned the hard way he can do whatever_ **_he_ ** _wants. “It’s not like that. He’s just a friend.”_

_“‘He’s just a friend’” he mockingly jeers, rolling his eyes. “I’m not blind, woman. I. Have. Eyes. But thanks for confirming you’re in over your head and you are attached to the subject. You know he’s going to kill you, right?”_

_“He’s not going to kill me!”_

_“Really? Because last I’d checked he’d killed_ **_thousands_ ** _of peo-”_

_“This is differen-”_

_She doesn’t get to finish. He slaps his palm across her cheek. She lets out a yelp and stumbles back._

**_“I told you to stop interrupting me!”_ ** _he snaps, face a grimace. “You think you’re_ **_sooo_ ** _different. You think you’re_ **_sooo_ ** _special. You think that you can talk to me however the hell you want. That_ **_you’re_ ** _some life changing important figure to the_ **_serial killer._ ** _Who the hell do you think you are? Need I remind you that you’re literally just an ordinary, stupid, and unremarkable_ **_bitch?”_ **

_“N… No. Of course not. I… know,” she says._

_“He’s not attached to you! So drop it, will you? Stop_ **_talking_ ** _with him, and just get your goddamn job done!”_

_“...I… I’m trying. But I need to talk at least some to get a reading on his vitals-”_

_“Yeah. Sure. Because telling him about your_ **_dimwitted students_ ** _is a part of the experiment. How could I forget!?” he snaps. “You tell him about all sorts of pointless bullshit. Do you take me for some kind of idiot?”_

_“...They’re not dimwitted.”_

_He smacks her across the head. “Is that what I asked!? Answer me, woman!”_

_“N… No,” she says quietly. “You’re not an idiot.”_

_“That’s what I thought. Then stop treating me like one. And_ **_stop_ ** _making small talk with the subject.”_

_“M… Mmmm.”_

_Both of them know she doesn’t mean it._

_“I’ll be holding you to that. Now get in there and take care of the reports without sucking him off for once in your goddamn life. This is the last warning I’m giving you, Yukimura. One of these days he’s going to kill you. And you know what? I won’t even care. Because you’re_ **_asking for this._ ** _But if you don’t get your head out of your ass soon and take this seriously, you’re going to get hurt. And don’t come crying to me when you do. Because I won’t have_ **_shit_ ** _to say to you.”_

_“I know,” she whispers. And reaching for the clipboard she’d dropped in the scuffle, she frowns. “I… I’ll handle this maturely. I can. I promise.” She steps towards the test chambers. “...I won’t get hurt.”_

_She knows neither of them believes that, either._

_She reaches for the keypad and quickly enters the code. Then she makes her way into the observation room and meets the test subject’s eyes through the glass._

_...Yanagisawa’s right about one thing. There’s no way to know he cares. But even so, looking into those empty eyes, he lounges back and asks her how school was._

_At least he bothers to pretend. She’ll take nothing over anger any day._

_And as her heartbeat relaxes… As she scrawls notes, and as The Reaper helps her grade worksheets from across the room, she tries to deny what she’s so certain of._

_...That even if he is going to hurt her, she doesn’t think she’d mind dying by his hand._

* * *

Fumiko wakes up with a headache and a dry taste in her mouth. Just as soon, however, she shuts her eyes tight and forces herself back to sleep.

Something feels weird. Something feels wrong. She’s not ready to wake up yet. She still needs to… She still needs to...

* * *

_...It’s funny. He looks so much less intimidating than she’d first expected. She’d been told he was good at putting on an innocuous facade, but nothing like this._

_He looks… So nonthreatening. So average. So small. So like…_

**_Like who?_ **

_She knows she’s seen his face before. At least… She thinks so. No. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she have met a serial killer? Even so, when he gives her an all too familiar wry smile across the glass, she feels her heart skip a beat._

_“What are you looking at?” he asks, raising an eyebrow._

_“I- Er! Nothing!” she sputters, covering her face with her hands._

_“I know when I’m being observed," he says, hands by his side. "Do you see something interesting? Pray tell.”_

_He sounds so different._

_...From what? From who?_

_No. She knows she’s heard it before. The Reaper. That’s what they’re calling him. The Reaper. Hadn’t Shiota-sensei mentioned something ab-_

**_What?_ **

_What is she -_ **_What?_ **

_“Well… I was wondering,” she says, seemingly entirely separated from her actual train of thought. And for a moment she wonders if she_ **_is_ ** _this person, or simply an outside observer in someone else's body. “...If I’m gonna be watching you, it would be nice to have something to call you. Are you sure you don’t have a name?”_

_“No. I was never given one. And I’ve never had a need for one. I see such formalities as pointless.”_

_“That’s still sorta inconvenient. I wanna get to know you! What am I supposed to call you by?”_

_The man gives an apathetic shrug._

_“...How... ‘Bout I give you one?”_

_“Yeahhhhhh… No.”_

_“H-Hey! Why not!? I’m sure I could think of something nice!”_

_“If your fashion choices are anything to go by, your naming skills would be just as strange.”_

_She glances down insecurely at her clothes, noting the ugliest graphic tee she’s ever seen. Instead of gagging with revolt, however, she frowns and sputters “Is- Is there really something so wrong with my clothes!? I think they’re cute!”_

_“...If that’s what you call it.” he says with a chuckle. “Besides. The day I allow someone else to decide who I am is the day I’m no longer The Reaper."_

**_Where has she heard that name?_ **

_“...I suppose Reaper will have to do, then.”_

_“I suppose it will,” the man repeats._

_“...It’s a bit scary… But… I guess it’s still nicer than not addressing you at all.”_

_“I don’t particularly mind a lack of politeness… But if it makes you happy…” The man strokes his chin. “Who am I to stop you?”_

_“Mr. Reaper it is, then! But if we’re gonna be friends, or at least know each other for the next while, you’ll probably need something to call me, too.”_

_“Not necessarily,” he says. “I don’t care much either way.”_

_“...You don’t care about much, do you?”_

_“I care about things that are important.”_

_The tone in his voice seems to imply she’s NOT._

**_Why does that sting so badly?_ **

_“...Well, I’ll become important, then! Just you wait!” She pumps her hands in the air, and she swears she catches the man laugh._

**_She knows that laugh._ **

_“I’d love to see you try,” he gives her a wry smile. “Indulge me, then. What can I call you, Ms. Important?”_

**_Why does she know that laugh?_ **

_“Aguri.”_

**_Where is she!?_ **

_You can call me Aguri.”_

**_Who is she!?_ **

_“A g u r i Y u k i m u r a. . .”_

* * *

Fumiko awakes with a jolt.

There’s a dry taste in her mouth and a cold sweat dripping down her forehead. Heart pounding in her chest, she stares up at the ceiling.

**_W… What had she just-?_ **

_What had she just seen?_

She shakes her head, pushing herself up onto her knees. She stumbles onto her feet and across the room. She doesn’t bother to flick on the light. Instead, she makes her way over to her mirror and shakily supports herself on the weight of the table. Nearly knocking over trophies and vases with her shaky hands, she stands petrified and stares at the girl blinking back at her in the dim reflection.

She’s not sure what she expects to see. But when she catches sight of purple locks and a tired young girl, she lets out a shaky sigh of relief. _‘I’m me.’_ She thinks. _‘I’m me.’_

_‘...Right?’_

Somehow, she’s not certain.

 One hand clutching the table, she raises the other to gently examine her face.

She brushes her fingers across her cheek. Her chin and past her eyes. She watches the girl in the mirror follow her motions. And when she doesn’t spot the subtle mar of bruised skin… Doesn’t feel the sting of a blackened eye, she lets out a choked up, relieved gasp.

It had felt so… _So real._

The terror in her gut and the fist drawn across her face. Complete and utter humiliation. Lost in another world, she’d been as helpless to escape the most twisted corners of her dreams as she had been to escape his wrath.

...And even so, the things that she’d seen… They hadn’t all been bad, had they? No. There’d been the other man. With his gentle eyes. His suave smile. And the amused way he’d chuckled at her each time she said something strange. 

...That’s right.

That laugh.

She’d recognized that laugh.

Every day she hears it. Every day she’d heard it. And in a world of terror and humiliation, it makes her heart soar.

...

Staring at herself in the mirror, she almost wishes she’d been greeted with the sight of brown hair and golden eyes. Because something’s not right. Something’s not her. She’s not at home in her body, and something is horribly wrong.

_What’s happening to her?_

She asks it like she doesn’t already know. Like she hadn’t heard the name whispered in her ear. Spoken across the glass and in class this morning. Like she hadn’t seen the way Makoto tossed her from him, and like she can’t feel that same complete and utter panic piercing her gut tonight.

“Aguri,” the girl in her dream says. The girl in the mirror repeats. “Aguri Yukimura.”

She doesn’t even realize she’s said it aloud until she chokes on her own words and feels tears drip down her cheeks.

_How had she forgotten all this time?_

...Forgotten what? No. _No. This is nothing._ Nothing’s wrong. She’s just Fumiko. Fumiko Hisakawa. And she’s nothing special. She never has, and she never will be. She’s an ordinary, stupid, and _unremarkable_ bitch.

_Why is she crying more!?_

She feels like she’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to. Something personal and ugly and wholly unique. Something she’d tried to lock away in the furthest recesses of her mind, and something she couldn’t dream up even in her wildest nightmares.

It had felt too real. Too painful. Too scary. And remembering that smile, too wonderful, too.

...No. Everything about that had been bad. She’d _died!_ What’s **_wrong_ **with her!?

 _‘What are you even talking about?’_ she asks herself. _‘You didn’t die. That wasn’t you. You’re just making this up.’_

For a moment, she swears she catches a glimpse of another girl in the mirror. And her skeptical look seems to say _‘Are you, though?’_

“I am! I am!” Fumiko whispers, hands shaking as she clutches the table.

...It’s another few seconds before she realizes there’s no other girl in the mirror at all, and that the only person she’s talking to is herself.

She meets her own skeptical gaze before turning her head. She doesn’t want to look at it. Doesn’t want to hear it. Doesn’t want to consider it, and doesn’t want to acknowledge that person.

Fumiko… Aguri. Does it _matter_ who she is? Either way, it hurts too much to meet her desolate eyes.

For a moment, she briefly considers flicking on the lights. Maybe in the glow of her nightlight, she’d be able to gather her thoughts. But she quickly decides against it when she remembers her parents are still here. Still stalking her house and her heart like that man who had tormented her.

...When she remembers somehow they’re even scarier to her than he _ever_ could have been.

Instead, she stumbles back over to her bed and paws at her bedside table. It takes three tries before she manages to grab her phone. Clutching it tight in her hands, she stares blankly at the light of the screen.

It hurts her eyes. Her head is pounding and for a moment she genuinely can’t tell if it’s just the stress or a goddamn concussion. Even so, she can’t find it in herself to put the phone aside. Instead, she opens up her texts and stares at Makoto’s name in her contacts.

She wants to talk to him. More than anything, she wants to reach out. She wants to call and hear his voice. _(Korosensei's voice.)_ But she doesn’t dare. Not right now. Not with the risks. He’s fast asleep, free from her concerns. Free from the burdens of life and what he feels he’s to blame for. She’s not in her right mind, and there’s nothing she could tell him that she could possibly believe.

So instead, she merely attempts to send him a text.

‘I had the strangest dream,’ she starts, but quickly backpedals.

‘The way you tossed me away earlier... Is there still something bothering you? That we haven't talked about?’ 

...She deletes that, too.

‘I hope you’re feeling better.’

No. Not right. And directed at herself, more than anything.

‘I love you.’

...

Absolutely fucking not.

Instead, she settles on ‘You’re my best friend. You know that, right?’

Before she can even reconsider it, she’s sent it. And staring at the message pop up on her screen, she wonders if she’d written the right thing.

He doesn’t respond. It’s the middle of the night, after all. But she has a feeling his answer would have to be something like ‘You too.’

 _...Why?_ **_Why_ ** _does he care about her?_ He’s always fought so, _so_ hard to make her happy. But what has she done to deserve it? Then _or_ now? She’d been so cruel to him when she first met him. And yet he’d never budged. _Why?_ In some sick recreation of what they’d already lived, a stubborn kindness attempting to get through to an icy heart…? Or had he already known the truth?

The truth behind _what!?_ She’s not Aguri. She’s just… She’s just…-

...Crying alone in her room.

Somewhere far, far away, and in a time she can’t reach, a woman does the same. And maybe Fumiko’s not so alone after all.

She can try to tell herself that this is all a bad dream. But the more she focuses on that familiar feeling, the more she’s certain it’s not. If anything, it’s starting to feel like her whole life has been the dream all along... And that she’s finally waking up.

 _‘To what?’_ she has to wonder.

Nagisa had described Aguri Yukimura so fondly. As a pinnacle of kindness in a cold world. Kayano’s beloved sister, and the one who had changed Korosensei’s life. A person to strive to be. But as Nagisa had told her story… The person she’d been and the way that she’d died, Fumiko hadn’t been able to conceptualize her life as anything but _sad._

Savior of the world. Cherished big sister. Friend to The Reaper. And a woman who died at age 25. Bruised and bloodied a hundred times before, she bled out on the cold ground. And letting out a shaky, relieved sigh, she smiled up at the man who was in some ways to blame.

_‘Hey... At least I’m dying in a kinder way.’_

And she hadn’t been making it up. Not to save his feelings. She’d meant it. Finally… Happily… She was just honored to go in a way that didn’t have to hurt so much.

Fumiko feels that same hurt in her gut. Bleeding out through her shirt and seeping into her covers. As she forces herself to put her phone aside, she turns over once… Then twice.

Just this afternoon, she’d thought she’d never understand what Makoto was going through, that panicked look in his eyes. But lying awake at 3 AM in the morning, it seems life is here to surprise her as it always has.

...Leaving her wondering if she can mend Makoto’s pain. If she’s been missing something all this time. And most importantly: If there’s been some sort of secret past hiding out in her heart as well.

It’s an answer she doesn’t want to consider.

Not because she doesn’t like Aguri. Not because she’s scared, or even because she’s worried she might be wrong. That… In a sleep-deprived fervor, she’s making light of the thing that had torn Makoto’s heart in two.

No. She doesn’t want to think about it because she doesn’t want to lose that happiness a second time.

Sitting across from Korosensei, separated by the glass, Aguri hums happily. And despite her fiance… Despite authoritative fathers and long-lost mothers… She knows she’s going to be okay. She has people who love her. And no matter what it takes, she’s going to follow her dreams.

Less than a week later, Aguri bleeds to death. And she never becomes the teacher she wanted to be.

Staring up at the ceiling, Fumiko really… Truly wants to believe that she’s at the turning point of her life. That she’ll be able to make it away from her parents, and become a person who is fully defined as ‘her own.’

But feeling in ache in her chest and her gut… She’s left to wonder if she’ll bleed out before she gets the chance as well.

Needless to say, she doesn’t sleep that night.

* * *

“Hey Nagisa?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we talk about what I missed yesterday?”

When Makoto shows up at Nagisa’s desk before any other students even arrive, he lets out a sigh of relief.

Nagisa had been… worried about Makoto, even after he’d returned to class yesterday, proclaiming that he was fine now. He hadn’t seemed to want to talk about what had went down and it left this sore aching feeling in Nagisa’s heart. Like he’d done something wrong. Like he’d been the one who screwed up. And that Makoto was mad at him for bestowing the knowledge to him.

He knows that's a ridiculous notion. But _shit, man…_ He had to have gone about that badly to earn such a freaked reaction from Makoto. He’s modest enough to admit that was a big mistake on his part.

“Of course,” he says. “I’m gonna need a recap of what you last heard, though.”

Makoto gives a tiny nod, pulling up a chair to be closer to Nagisa’s desk. He still has bags under his eyes, but he’s starting to look a lot better than he had a week ago. Nagisa’s hoping that’s a good sign.

“Well… Uh… I got the stuff about how Korosensei was a human experiment,” he says. “...Antimatter, right? It - Uh… All got put in his body.”

“Yeah,” Nagisa says. “That’s correct.”

“And… I got who did it to him. That bad scientist guy. Kotaro Yanagisawa. But… Uh… That’s around when I started to lose focus.”

Nagisa frowns. “Did he scare you?”

Makoto’s expression seems to say _‘Of course he scared me!’_ But he quickly shakes his head. “Not… Like… In particular. I guess the situation itself just sucked,” he admits. “Plus… He’s gone now, right? It’d be pretty silly to be scared of a guy who’s dead.”

“Yes. He’s gone,” Nagisa reassures. “He passed in 2017, after heart failure from full-body paralysis. He never got to hurt another person with the time he had left.”

Makoto lets out a tiny sigh of relief. “I know it’s not good to be relieved a person is dead… But…” He drifts off.

“I think it’s acceptable just this once.”

Makoto lets out a tiny “Mmm,” before quickly changing the topic. “Then… Uh… You got to that woman, and I think that’s when I really started freaking out,” he admits.

“Aguri?”

“...Yeah. Aguri.” Makoto stares at his feet. “I - Uh… Didn’t know about her until then. It really hurt to think there was another person I managed to screw over.”

Nagisa frowns. “You didn’t screw her over,” he says firmly.

“She _is_ dead, though. Right? B… Because of me?”

Nagisa feels like he’s been stabbed in the gut. This is exactly what Kayano had been worried about.

“No. Not because of you. In fact… In some ways, it was the opposite,” Nagisa reaches out to place a hand on Makoto’s shoulder “Let me repeat the story. Just tell me if you start to lose sight of yourself again and I’ll pause. I _really_ want you to hear this. And she would too.”

“Okay,” Makoto says. “...Okay.”

“...Aguri Yukimura was indeed someone who met you through the lab. While you were being experimented on, she was tasked with watching and observing you. This was supposed to remain a purely professional affair. She’d take your vitals, ask you about your condition, and leave. But Aguri just wasn’t that sort of person. Where the rest of the scientists in that laboratory saw a dangerous serial killer or a disposable guinea pig, Aguri saw a person. And a lonely person, at that. So she set out to try and befriend you.”

“You see, in her own ways, Aguri had had a hard life, too. Her mother died when she was young, and in turn, she was tasked with raising her little sister-”

“...I… Know her, right? Her little sister.” Makoto interjects. “The name Yukimura. It’s familiar. Who… Who-?”

“Kayano,” Nagisa says. “Real name Akari Yukimura. Aguri was her elder sister.”

Makoto covers his mouth with his hands, shaking his head softly, but doesn’t dare speak another word.

“From the age of ten, she was expected to play both the role of mother and sister to Kayano. But this never once turned Aguri bitter. She remained optimistic and kind, loving her sister and everyone else around her with all she could. And even despite her struggles, never once giving up on her dream.”

“...You see… Aguri wanted to be a teacher. Just like you and me. Despite her stresses and pressure, Aguri realized she _loved_ helping other people. She _loved_ nurturing her sister, and she loved the feeling of getting to help her with her homework, or helping her solve a particularly difficult life problem. Because of this, in between raising Kayano she began to attend college classes at night, studying to become a teacher.

“As Kayano turned 13 and began to become able to fend for herself, Aguri obtained her degree and applied to work at Kunugigaoka. She was hired, passing the application with flying colors. And she finally set off to follow her dreams.”

“...Then how did she end up working in some dreary lab?” Makoto asks. “That doesn’t sound like a part of teaching.”

“Indeed. Just like it had always been to her, life decided to be cruel to Aguri. During her years at college, she happened to meet a man who was pursuing his master’s degree in pharmaceuticals. And a man who just happened to work under her father. A man who quickly became deeply jealous of her.”

Makoto blinks, face dawning in horror. “...Yanagisawa.”

Nagisa nods. “It was around this time that Yanagisawa was also making his first big scientific breakthrough. One that saved Yukimura Pharmaceuticals from bankruptcy. Yanagisawa gave them the edge to retake the Pharmaceutical industry, and rocket out of the red. In turn, Aguri’s relieved father told Yanagisawa he’d give him _anything_ as thanks.”

 _“...Oh God,”_ Makoto whispers.

“Yanagisawa told him there was only one thing he wanted. And that was his daughter.”

Makoto bolts to his feet, slapping his hands on Nagisa’s desk. “But you can’t just _do that,_ can you!? T-To your own daughter! Is that even legal!? _That’s not fair!”_

...He looks ready to cry.

“No. It’s not. But… People were never fair to Aguri. Yanagisawa threatened to leave the company and take his discoveries with him if her father didn’t comply. And it turns out ruthless businesship won out over fatherly love. Aguri’s hand was sold into marriage. And so, shortly after she first obtained her teaching degree, she became engaged to Kotaro Yanagisawa.”

“As you can imagine… he… Wasn’t good to her. Yanagisawa was a violently abusive person to his loved ones _and_ his subordinates, both of which she ended up becoming. He pressured her and pressured her into working at his lab, demanding she quit her newfound teaching job. But Aguri refused to comply, and instead met him in the middle, taking shifts at the lab during the night.”

Makoto stares. “B… But she didn’t want to do that! She… She didn’t wanna…” He drifts off, murmuring under his breath “...Meet me.”

“...No, Makoto. She was _lucky_ to meet you,” Nagisa says. “You’re right. She didn’t want to work at the lab. Not even a little. Aguri was good at chemistry, but this just wasn’t her kind of science. She hated the unethical things that they did there, and she hated the terrified atmosphere that surrounded her and her coworkers. 

“But Aguri was always the sort of person to make the best of a bad situation, and that’s why she decided… When Yanagisawa bought a death row prisoner to experiment on, just like he’d bought her… That she’d find a way to get through to his heart. Because no matter how cruel… No matter how empty the man who met her eyes from across the glass was, she recognized his loneliness all the same.”

“She began to talk to The Reaper. Began to talk to you. About her problems, and about mundane things, too. At first you didn’t respond much. In some ways, you just saw her as a stepping stone in coming up with a plan to escape. But as the months began to pass by, you found yourself looking forward to her visits. And you began to open up to her in return.”

“She _got_ you. In a world where you’d managed to find a way to manipulate or lie to any other person, Aguri was the first to see through that. She looked past the fake kind exterior you put up to trick others, and searched for the legitimate kindness hiding underneath. It was hard to unearth… And I’m sure she struggled. But seeing as how you’d spent your entire life building up that disguise, to have her look past it… You were _happy_ you couldn’t manipulate her. Because it meant you were finally being seen.”

Makoto stares up at Nagisa with watery eyes.

“And… I guess you saw her in the same way. Because she _trusted_ you. She didn’t talk to you just because ‘she was making the best of a bad situation.’ Not anymore. She _looked forward_ to talking to you. You were the highlight of her day! There were things she couldn’t tell anyone else. Things her father wouldn’t get. Her fiance wouldn’t understand. Things she couldn’t bear to put on her baby sister. But she could tell _you._ And that foundation of trust and honesty is why you became so important to each other.”

“More important than anything else. Before you even had your students… Before you had us, you had Aguri. And she _changed your life._ On March 13th, 2014, Aguri gave you a birthday. Even though you were born in a world that said you didn’t matter… That you were a killer and you’d inevitably die young, she knew you deserved to be celebrated, too. That… Your life could be, and _already was_ something beautiful. Something worthy of commemoration.”

“She gave you your tie,” Nagisa says, reaching up to cover his chest with his palm. “...And in return, you reached out to hold her from across the glass.”

Makoto blinks, reaching up to cover his own heart with his hand. And eyes wide… Mouth agape in wonder… For just one moment, he seems to be back there, surrounded by that golden glow. 

...That’s when his expression falls.

“But then everything went bad… didn’t it?”

“...Yeah. Everything went bad,” Nagisa admits. 

And the golden glow that had cupped Aguri’s cheek… That had hugged Korosensei’s students one final time a whole March 13th later… Fades from Makoto’s eyes.

“Yanagisawa had similar, less stable experiments in the same vein as the ones he was performing on you. Experiments he was doing on rats. He believed there was a risk of his experiments backfiring, and as such he used them as test subjects to keep one or two steps ahead of the things he was doing to you, just in case. It… Turns out this was a good precaution, because on March 13th, one of the rats exploded.”

Makoto sputters. _“Exploded!?_ Like? Into blood and guts, or-?”

“Like… A nuclear explosion. Everything around it was consumed in a horrific chain reaction. And because of this… The moon where the rat was kept was destroyed with it.”

Realization seems to dawn in Makoto’s eyes. “...Oh… _Rats._ I… I finally get it.”

...He doesn’t laugh.

“Yanagisawa believed the same thing would happen to you in roughly a year. To negate that possibility, he… He decided to…” Nagisa pauses. “...He decided to terminate you.”

Makoto’s face dawns with horror.

“Aguri warned you of the danger. And… You flipped out. _You didn’t want to die._ And so… With the powers you’d developed over the past year, you escaped. You destroyed the laboratory and ‘got your revenge’ for everything that had happened to you over the course of your stay there.”

Makoto shifts uncomfortably. “I… Hurt a lot of people, didn’t I?” he asks.

“The death toll was in the dozens,” Nagisa says. “...You… Weren’t necessarily in your right mind, howev-”

“No,” Makoto says. “That’s not an excuse.”

Nagisa sighs deeply. “No. It’s not,” he admits. “In a fit of rage, you killed dozens… Maybe hundreds of people just doing their job. But as you prepared to leave the lab for good… planning to do something awful… Aguri saw through to you one last time.”

Makoto wipes at his nose with the back of his hand. “...That’s when I killed her.”

Nagisa shakes his head. “That’s when Aguri made a decision. She knew you were about to do something you’d always regret. She knew you were about to kill _thousands_ more if given the chance. But… She also knew you could be so much better than that. So steeling herself… Knowing her words wouldn’t be enough if they hadn’t been for the past year… She stepped forward to hug you. To embrace you in the same way you had embraced her. And she told you ‘Please don’t do this.’”

“Her motion set off a trap that Yanagisawa had placed to try and contain you. It pierced her lower abdomen, and she began to bleed out. But even on her deathbed… She told you she didn’t want you to blame yourself. That she didn’t want you to feel bad. Because you made her life _happy._ And that if she were going to die for anyone’s sake… Then you were the person who was worth it.”

“But I… But I…-” Makoto sputters. “I still put her in the line of-”

“...I know. And she knew, too. She didn’t mind. I think… More than anything, Aguri was happy she could finally rest. She wasn’t mad at you. And she wouldn’t want you to be mad at yourself now. All she asked of you in return was for you to look out for her class of junior high students in her place. A… Duty which you know by now you fulfilled perfectly.”

Makoto stares. “She… She was _your teacher?”_

“...Yeah. Before we met you, we had Yukimura-sensei.”

“You… you knew her,” Makoto whispers. “I’m sorry. You must have really missed her.”

“It’s okay,” Nagisa says. “To be truthful… We weren’t always the nicest to Yukimura-sensei.”

Makoto scoots his chair in, lip quivering. “...What was she like? W… What sort of teacher was she? Did I… Did I live up to her?”

“Aguri was…” Nagisa pauses. “Well, she was another one of the best people I ever knew. She was kind... And she was optimistic... And she was funny. And she was stubborn as hell, and never knew when to quit. She always tried to see the best in people, and wanted to believe that it wasn’t too late for anyone. But she wasn’t perfect, either.”

“She was just starting off as a teacher. She didn’t really know what she was doing yet. Her saccharine attitude didn’t always feel genuine to us students, so sometimes it felt like she was pitying us. She always talked more than she needed to, and of course her fashion sense was just a little bit worth scoffing at.”

Makoto’s brow furrows in confusion. But once more, realization seems to dawn on his face. And for the first time in this entire conversation… He laughs. Chuckling into his elbow, a smile just barely turns up at the corners of his lips.

“...She also liked to make people laugh, didn’t she?” he whispers.

“Yeah. She did,” Nagisa cracks a smile, too. “But never at her fashion. If you told her what she was wearing was strange, she’d cover her shirt with her hands and start shouting at you about how she thought it was perfectly normal. _Designer,_ even.”

Makoto shakes his head with a fond smile. “...She would have loved what I looked like. I was goofy, right?” He sighs. “I wish she’d gotten to see it.”

“I think we all do,” Nagisa says. “Of course you lived up to her, Makoto. You went above and beyond. In places where even Aguri couldn’t manage to get through to us, you did.”

“...She wasn’t bad though, right?” Makoto asks. “At what she did?”

“No,” Nagisa says. “She just… Maybe wasn’t the best teacher for us. But she _was_ the perfect teacher for you. And that’s what matters. I have a lot to thank her for. She was a truly wonderful person.”

“Not perfect though, right?”

“Not perfect, though,” Nagisa repeats. “Aguri always prioritized other people above herself. And while that’s the same trait that ended up making her a hero, I guess it’s also what caused her to have such a tumultuous life.”

Makoto nods. “...Yeah. I think you’re right,” he says. His gaze drifts off towards the floor, and he shuffles slightly. “I feel bad that I didn’t remember up until now. She was a good person. She deserves to be remembered.”

“It’s okay,” Nagisa reassures. “You remember now. That’s all she would say matters.”

Makoto shuffles more. “Do you think Kayano would mind if I talked to her sometime? If… this hurts this bad now, I bet she’s been really sad for a long time. Would it… Would it help her if I asked her about Aguri?”

“I think it would,” Nagisa admits. “Aguri… meant a lot to her. I think she’d really like it if you talked to her about her sometime.” He stretches. “She knew her a lot better than I did, anyways. She can tell you all about her. And who knows? Maybe… Maybe it’ll help the both of you move on.”

“It’s a plan, then.”

Nagisa sends a glance towards the clock. It’s nearing 7:30. Other students should be arriving any minute now. They don’t have long.

“I’m glad you felt comfortable asking me about all this, Makoto.”

“...Of course,” Makoto says. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m just…” He pauses. “I’m just really worried I messed up with how I did the lesson. I tried to make it fun and educational, but I guess that didn’t work. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Makoto says. “...That was never gonna be fun for me. I’m glad everyone else could have a good time, at least.” He pauses. “...And I’m glad you told me the truth.”

“Anytime,” Nagisa says. “Anytime.” He sits up and begins to gather his things. “...I guess I should be getting ready for class, huh? Try not to worry too much, though, okay? The truth of the matter is… We’re coming up on some of Korosensei’s best memories now. You don’t have anything to fear anymore. I promise… His story starts to get happier from here.”

Makoto nods, standing and grabbing his own things. He begins to walk towards his desk, backpack slung over his shoulder, when he hesitates midstep and turns back Nagisa’s way.

“...Even after loss?” he asks.

“Even after loss,” Nagisa reassures.

But as Makoto returns to his seat… And as the other students flood into class, Nagisa stares down at his crescent tie.

...He wonders what burdens Korosensei had carried with him all his life. What burdens Makoto carries with him now. There’s an ache in his heart, even as he goes over Korosensei’s best memories… Because those have become the unreachable past he himself shoulders now.

That moment he’ll be able to reach again.

And even without his own past life, he’s back on that field, backlit by the glow of Korosensei fading between their fingers.

...Stuck wondering if there really is such a thing as happy endings after loss after all.

* * *

“...Makoto. Can I ask you a question?”

She whispers it. Like she’s scared of being caught.

“Yeah? Duh.”

He sits to the right of her, hyperfocused on his worksheet. Wiggling his pen back and forth, he bites his tongue and stares intensely down at the problems. It’s a far cry from how unfocused he’d seemed at the beginning of the year.

There’s this hesitation caught in the back of her gut, but she knows she has to say it soon. Kiyoshi’s gotten up to go to the bathroom, and she just can’t find it in herself to ask it in front of him. She’s… Scared he won’t believe her or something. Or that… He won’t get it. She loves him, but she’s not ready for him to catch a glimpse of this. Not yet.  

_(She trusts him. She'd trust him with anything. But she also knows he's going to give her a much-needed reality check. And she'd like to weigh all of her options first.)_

“How did you know?”

Now that makes him stop writing. He pauses and looks her way, whispering back.

“Know what?”

“About… Korosensei,” she says. “Like… How did you figure that out? That you used to be him? When did it first come to you?”

Makoto mulls it over, fiddling with his pencil in his hands. “When did it first… Come to me?” He repeats, tilting his head. “...I dunno, really. It’s always felt like a part of me. I’ve always had these like… Weird dreams. Or didn’t really know where I belonged. I just didn’t know what any of that meant until I came here.”

“...So it was attending this school.”

“Only sorta,” Makoto admits. “I think I always knew subconsciously. But that was like… What flicked the switch. Meeting Nagisa and seeing the building and stuff. It’s what made me realize ‘Hey! _This_ is the place I’ve been seeing. The same people. That can’t be a coincidence, can it?’”

“I suppose not,” Fumiko replies, a set of her own unlikely coincidences swimming around in her head. Rainy days spent watching Mase Haruana’s films when she had nothing else, and the golden glow in her chest when Makoto had given her a birthday gift of his own.

Some internal part of her screaming _‘Is this what it feels like for the tables to turn?’_

She shakes her head. She’s getting ahead of herself.

“What do you mean by subconsciously, though? Like… Okay… You know all this stuff you’re not supposed to know. That seals the deal. But… Before you knew any of that, what made you think you were somehow different from everyone else?”

Makoto cocks his head again. “Asking all the big questions today, huh?” he asks.

“I’m curious,” Fumiko replies.

“Fair enough,” he relents, bringing his hand up to stroke his chin. “I mean… They’re mostly things that only make sense in hindsight, I guess. But… Like, I’ve always been really scared of water. And I’ve always loved learning, even if I was never very good at it. I’ve got a big sweet tooth, and I’ve always really been interested in Korosensei, too! Maybe not in the same smart way you are… But I’d look at him and think… ‘I bet he was a really cool guy.’” He lets out a low chuckle, eyes practically glowing with mischief. “Turns out I was right!”

“...Narcissist,” Fumiko snidely whispers.

“H-Hey!” Makoto yelps. “I don’t mean it in that way! I just - I mean - I _am_ pretty cool, aren’t I!?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fumiko relents, rolling her eyes. “You’re plenty cool.”

He’s got this flustered, wild look in his eyes. When she blinks, she swears she sees that same face in the back of her mind. Covering his mouth with his hands, and staring at her with the same petty embarrassment, even as an entirely different person.

“Maybe even the coolest person I know.”

“Aw! Come on! Don’t give Kiyoshi so little credit. Now _he’s_ the coolest guy we both know.”

“I think we’ve gotten off-topic.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

“...Is it like you just came in here, and it all clicked? All the coincidences suddenly made sense?”

Makoto quickly shakes his head. “Nah. It’s more like… The pieces slowly started coming together after that. It’s not like I stepped into the building and suddenly knew everything. There’s _still_ things I don’t know about Korosensei.”

“Of course. Of course,” Fumiko says.

“It’s just when I started being able to put faces to names. To see where I was clearly. I never realized it before, but it’s funny just how much a place or a sentence can jog your memory.”

_(A single action?_

_...Makoto tosses her aside, and she’s lost in a sea of her own memories.)_

“Did it come easier? After the first memory? Did they like… Come faster?”

“I dunno about _faster,_ but they started to make more sense. Especially after I realized I was definitely seeing memories that belonged to Korosensei. I could ask Nagisa for stories about him, then fill in the gaps myself. It was actually really cool.”

“I can imagine.”

_‘Cool.’_

...Is it?

Moments of terror interlaced with pain. Pierced guts and unseen tears. But even so, looking at Makoto’s glimmering eyes, she knows he at the very least believes it. That there was some sort of wonder to be found in the memories he’d explored. And hadn’t he been through much, _much_ worse?

_(She whispers a secret to Reaper, and feels like a schoolgirl at a slumber party. It’s funny. She never got invited to any of those when she was younger. But she supposes she can be a kid now. He gives her a wry smile and rolls his eyes, but it’s okay. He can pretend, but she knows her secret is safe with him._

_In another time, her sister comes running to her, practically tripping over her own shoelaces. Clapping her tiny hands, she says that she did it. That she really acted in her first movie. They build a blanket fort and pop it on. And for just a moment, the two of them can relax.)_

...No. That’s not all there is to life, is it? Pain. She’d like to believe there’s something ‘cool’ to be found in every moment. At least… If Makoto can think so.

But as soon as she’s decided that, her heart seems to wither. How can she really see those things, and decide those memories are hers to hold? Who is she kidding herself? She’s not… She’s not…

She’s not special like Makoto. She just _wants_ to be.

“There’s still one thing I just don’t get,” she admits.

“What is it?” Makoto asks.

“How did you _believe it?”_ she asks. “I mean… Not to sound dismissive, but that truly is _out there._ Coming to a conclusion like having been Korosensei in a past life… Didn’t that feel _weird?_ How were you certain about it? How did you know that you weren’t just crazy, or making it up for attention?”

Makoto rests his cheek on his palm, mulling it over as he looks at Fumiko. “...I mean, yeah. Duh. Of course it felt weird. But so had my entire life. As ‘out there’ as it was, it was still the first thing that seemed to make any sense to me. I guess I always could have thought I was just trying to be special… But… That was a pretty crappy way to think about myself. So I thought ‘Why _not_ let myself believe? What harm can it do?’ And from there it all just started to make more sense.”

“I know a lot of people will never believe me. But I think I knew for sure when I started learning about things that happened before anyone told me about them. There’s a lot of things you can chalk up to a Chuunibyou complex, but not that. At least… I don’t think so. When Nagisa was confirming that the things I’d seen had really happened, what else was I supposed to think?”

“I… Don’t know,” Fumiko admits. 

“There was no other answer. At least not for me. But that’s not what really sealed the deal for me… The true reason I was certain. That was… Something a lot more simple.”

“Huh?”

“It was that feeling of love. Stepping into this classroom, and after a lifetime of not understanding who I was, finally, _finally_ undeniably feeling like I was coming home.”

“...Coming home?” Fumiko repeats.

“Yeah,” Makoto says, a warm smile creeping up his face. “Coming home.”

“Sounds pretty nice,” Fumiko admits.

“Yeah. It was,” Makoto muses. “And sometimes, I still think I feel it every time I come here. Even despite the bad stuff… I know I’m where I belong.” He gazes fondly around the room, although quickly shakes himself from his dreamlike state. “That’s your answer, I guess. Or at least… The most I have. Why’re you asking, though? Do you not believe me?” he asks.

“No,” Fumiko quickly responds. “I was just… Wondering.”

“Fair enough,” Makoto says, and quickly gets back to his school work.

 _‘Coming home,’_ he says... And Fumiko wants it more than anything.

The comforting, rustic place the school has become for her. The feeling of warmth that had glowed in her chest when she’d first stepped into Nagisa’s home and met Kayano’s eyes. And the way her heartbeat steadies when she watches Makoto stick out his tongue and stare down at his paper, deep in focus.

...She’d like to think she’s already come home. But it’s pretty hard to decide what that means when she’s the girl who’s never had one in her entire life.

Because there’s more than one way to find a home. And it’s hard not to wonder if she’s finally returned to where she belongs, or if she’s only just now finding this warm place for the first time in her existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 23! And /WHAT/ a chapter! Sorry for the wait, everyone! But I hope it was worth said wait!
> 
> As I mentioned in the pre-chapter notes, no need to worry about this turning into a Koroagu fluff filled romp. I love the octopuskisser9000 ship as much as everyone else, but that's not what this story is about. Aguri reveal or not, this is still the same fic about found family, the ethics of reincarnation, guilt, identity and grief. The fact that Korosensei and Aguri were in love /will/ 100% come up again, but don't worry. That's not going to give Fumiko and Makoto a sudden irresistible urge to mash faces. Instead what will be discussed is the complex and confusing ways this affects their already existing dynamic and relationship. Because that's a lot more interesting!
> 
> Disclaimer 2: Don't ya'll worry: This doesn't mean Kiyoshi is going to fall out of relevancy, either. He may not have some secret special past life, but he's still my favorite boy. Don't worry about him becoming forgotten. Although he doesn't appear much in this chapter or the next admittedly, he's still a treasured member of the Newtime Trio's friendgroup and isn't about to be left behind. (He may FEAR he is going to be, however. Lol ;P)
> 
> I enjoyed writing Fumiko's initial reaction to All This. It's a lot to spring on her, and an awfully complex topic in general, but I hope I did it justice. I hope you'll enjoy where I continue to go with her exploring this newfound aspect of herself.
> 
> Sorry about the uhhhhhhhhh descriptions of abuse. Writing Yanagisawa makes me feel physically ill, but I think an important thing to remember about Aguri's life is just how bad it could get sometimes, and that means looking into the dark nitty gritty of how the worst person in it treated her. Plot device or not, however, I am still going to beat Yanagisawa to death with a rock.
> 
> The next chapter will be up in a week. So don't worry about another long wait! It's another good one, so I hope you look forward to it!
> 
> Some songs that helped me write this chapter were Stuff We Did from Up, Feed Me from Little Shop of Horrors, In The Morning Sun from Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, The Tree On The Hill from The Lightning Thief, Long Way Home by Jukebox the Ghost, and Calendar Girl by Stars, which... Again... Is a little too fitting for me to not share a line or two from.
> 
> "If I am lost for a day, try to find me  
> But if I don't come back, then I won't look behind me  
> All of the things that I thought were so easy  
> Just got harder and harder each day
> 
> ....
> 
> I dreamed I was dying, as I so often do  
> And when I awoke I was sure it was true  
> I ran to the window; threw my head to the sky  
> And said "Whoever is up there, please don't let me die"
> 
> But I can't live forever, I can't always be  
> One day I'll be sand on a beach by a sea  
> The pages keep turning, I'll mark off each day with a cross  
> And I'll laugh about all that we've lost
> 
> Calendar girl who is lost to the world, stay alive"
> 
> ... :)
> 
> As I mentioned the next chapter will be up in one week, so I hope to see you then! And remember to let me know what you thought o/

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, boys! My first long term fanfiction project in years. I’m so excited to buckle down and attempt this, and I’m so glad Assassination Classroom inspired something like this from me.
> 
> I suppose I shouldn’t go into exactly why I wrote this fanfiction yet, since that would entail quite a bit of spoilers, but trust me when I say tons of heart has gone into it and its planning. It’s a story at its heart about Nagisa, the people who have molded his life, and the way he can mold the lives of others. And I hope that shows.
> 
> And, of course, it’s a fanfiction about second chances. We haven’t quite gotten into the meat of things yet, but if the description has tipped you off any, things are about to get fishy around here. (Well. Octopussy? Hm. Now that I’ve typed that, I don’t think I enjoy that phrase!)
> 
> I hope the inclusion of Nagisa and his convoluted polycule isn’t a huge turnoff for anyone. I couldn’t quite decide what ship I wanted to go with, if any, for Nagisa’s future. So I just went with just about everything I shipped! Because the world needs more wholesome poly relationships. I would not describe this as a ship fic even remotely, but his relationship with his spouses certainly does play a part in the plot, and I have my fingers crossed that even if your eyebrow is raised right now I can sell you on this nonsense by the end of the fic. Don’t worry. I WILL explain how they ended up in this situation sooner or later. Because HOO boy they didn’t expect this either.
> 
> As a note they are not all dating. Nagisa is with all three of them, and Karma and Asano are with each other. Kayano is not involved with those two. That said, the ones who aren’t involved are all still close friends, and consenting to this entire ordeal. They have fun here.
> 
> I ended up going with Constellate Junior High for the name of his school, but it was HARD to decide. Because how on earth do you get something cooler than fucking Paradise!? There’s simply no improving on that. That said, I tried to stay with a sort of celestial/space theme. I was going to go with something based on the moon, but figured that would be a little bit too on the nose. So I went with Constellate! A word defined as “form or cause to form into a cluster or group; gather together,” which I think is sweet for him trying to nurture a bunch of misfits, while also sounding like constellation, which is always a plus..
> 
> Sorry for bombarding so many students on you in a single chapter, by the way. If it makes you feel any better: I’m just gonna say it here and now that the only ones you really need to pay any attention to are Makoto, Fumiko, and Kiyoshi. And I hope I’ve made that clear. The rest are all just to. Y’know. Have an actual school and not Nagisa teaching three children in a void. They’re a… Interesting trio, alright. And I can’t wait to delve into how they interact. 
> 
> Music is a big thing that inspires my writing, and I can’t help but give it some credit. This fanfiction itself is named after The New Pornographers’ “Adventures In Solitude”, and the reason why will become pretty apparent PRETTY quickly if you give it a listen. I’ll probably end up listing off some songs that I listened to while I wrote every chapter, just because I love music like that. Some big influences for this one were Pokemon Mystery Dungeon’s “Goodnight”, Dear Evan Hansen’s “Does Anybody Have A Map”, Bastille’s “Lethargy”, Air Traffic Controller’s “Hurry, Hurry” and The White Stripes’ “We’re Going To Be Friends”.
> 
> And with that, I hope you’ll all enjoy Adventures In Solitude. Because I have a LOT planned, and you’re in for a wild ride.


End file.
